My Mother's Killer's Daughter Works For Me

The day my mother hemorrhaged during the difficult labor of her second child.

And my father, a man worth hundreds of millions, pulled every doctor off her to go treat his mistress's migraine, because the woman had whined that all the crying was giving her a headache.

That night, my mother and my unborn brother both died in agony, and the mistress arranged to have me thrown out of the house.

Twenty years passed.

On the charity of my mother's best friend and a drive that nearly killed me, I became the woman who now ran a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate. They called me Ms. Butler.