Chapter 3

I marched into our master bedroom. I slapped the switch, flooding the room with blinding overhead light.

Arthur groaned, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare. "Zoe? What time is it?"

I threw the stack of papers directly at his face. They scattered across the silk sheets like white ashes.

"You murdered her!" I screamed. The raw, guttural agony tore through my throat, shredding my vocal cords. "You harvested my newborn baby to save Serena’s child!"

Arthur froze. He looked down at the surgical logs resting on the blanket.

I expected him to panic. I expected him to beg for my forgiveness. I expected the charming, devoted husband to make up another elaborate, desperate lie.

He did none of those things.

"I am going to the police," I sobbed, backing away toward the bedroom door. My entire body shook violently. "I am going to hand them these files. I am going to watch them lock you in a cage for the rest of your miserable life!"

Arthur sighed heavily. He reached over to his nightstand and pressed a small, hidden button beneath the wood.

I did not wait to see what it did. I turned and ran.

I flew down the grand staircase, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble. I made it to the grand foyer. I reached for the heavy brass handle of the front door but heavy hands shot out from the shadows.

Two massive bodyguards stepped into the moonlight. They grabbed my arms with terrifying, bone-crushing force. I screamed and thrashed wildly, but I was entirely powerless against them.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, kicking my legs.

The guards pinned my shoulders to the polished wood. They held me down effortlessly.

Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed down the marble staircase. Arthur walked into the dining room. He walked into the adjoining kitchen and returned a moment later holding a small, clear glass jar.

It was peanut powder.

"You were never a wife to me, Zoe," Arthur said coldly. He stopped right beside the dining table. "You were a medical supply bank. You were a walking incubator with a rare blood type."

"You are a monster," I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

"Serena was my only love," Arthur continued, unscrewing the lid of the glass jar. "Her legacy needed to survive. Lily was dying. You were just the soil we planted her in. You served your purpose perfectly."

"You killed my baby!" I wept, struggling against the guards.

"And now, you are going to join her," Arthur stated smoothly.

He leaned over me. He pinched my jaw with his strong fingers, forcing my mouth open.

"You have been mentally unstable," Arthur whispered maliciously. His breath was hot against my skin. "Everyone in our social circle knows it. You have been careless. A tragic allergic reaction in the middle of the night is such a common, unfortunate accident."

He tipped the jar. He forced the fine, deadly powder directly into my mouth.

I gagged. I tried to spit it out, but he clamped his hand over my mouth, forcing me to swallow.

It felt like swallowing shattered glass. My tongue swelled immediately. A thick, burning fire crawled down my throat. The airway began to close.

I gasped, but no oxygen reached my lungs. My chest heaved in pure, suffocating panic.

Arthur gestured to the guards. They released me and stepped back into the shadows.

I rolled off the mahogany table and crashed onto the hardwood floor. I clutched my throat.

I wheezed, my eyes widening in absolute terror. The room began to spin.

Arthur reached into his tailored jacket. He pulled out a folded stack of legal documents. He tossed them onto the floor right in front of my face.

"A divorce agreement and a strict non-disclosure agreement," Arthur said calmly.

He reached into his other pocket. He pulled out my bright yellow EpiPen. He held it in the air, dangling my life just inches out of my reach.

"Sign the papers, Zoe," Arthur commanded. He looked at his expensive watch. "Sign them, leave this city silently tonight, and I will save you. Refuse, and you die right here on this floor."

I stared at the pen. My vision was blurring at the edges. Black spots danced across my eyes. My lungs burned with a desperate, agonizing need for air.

He expected me to beg. He expected me to surrender.

But as the darkness crept in, the paralyzing grief inside my chest suddenly shattered. It was instantly replaced by a cold, feral rage.

I did not reach for the pen. I reached up blindly toward the top of the mahogany dining table.

My trembling fingers brushed against the heavy, solid crystal vase from Lily’s birthday party.

I gripped the thick crystal with both hands. I summoned every single ounce of adrenaline left in my dying body.

I swung the heavy vase upward with blinding, lethal speed.

I smashed the crystal directly into Arthur’s face.

The sickening crack of bone echoed through the dining room. The heavy vase shattered into a million jagged pieces.

Arthur unleashed a bloodcurdling scream. He stumbled backward, clutching his ruined, bleeding face.

The EpiPen slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

I crawled like a feral animal over his writhing, bleeding body.

I snatched the yellow pen from the floor. I ripped the blue safety cap off with my teeth.

I slammed the needle violently into my outer thigh.

My airway violently forced itself open. I sucked in a massive, ragged breath of air.