Chapter 1

At the police station, my husband Ethan's mistress sobbed like she was the victim:

"She attacked me, Ethan. It hurts so bad."

Ethan didn't say a word in my defense.

He just wrapped his arms around her and walked out.

I was held for three days. The first text I got when I got out was:

"Stay away from Wendy. You're still my wife."

I couldn't accept it.

For six months I kept fighting back, and he personally had me sent to the station nine times.

Then came the tenth time. He came to pick me up himself.

He saw the bruises and cuts covering my body, and the corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk.

"Learned your lesson yet, Jess? Your family's bankrupt. You're not daddy's little princess anymore."

He even took a few steps back like he was disgusted, bracing himself for me to throw my arms around him and cry like I used to.

But I felt nothing. I just calmly slid into the back seat.

The front passenger seat belonged to Wendy now. That was just how things were.

A flicker of surprise crossed Ethan's face, then settled into a satisfied smile.

"When we get home, apologize to Wendy properly. I'll get that nursery set up like you asked."

My body went stiff. My hand drifted to my stomach without thinking.

He didn't know. The baby was already gone — lost the day I was locked up.

A dead baby has no use for a nursery.

And I had no more use for him.