Part 1
My name is Evelyn Cross, and thirty seconds from now, my husband will try to kill me and our unborn child.
I backed away from the polished marble landing of our Manhattan penthouse, both hands instinctively shielding my eight-month pregnant belly. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Ahead of me stood Julian Ashford—billionaire CEO of...
Part 1
My name is Evelyn Vance. I am thirty-two, eight months pregnant, and right now, the only thing keeping me alive is a locked master bathroom door that is splintering under a heavy iron fire poker.
On the other side of that mahogany wood stands Marcus Vance, the celebrated philanthropist and CEO of Apex Energy, whom the public worships as...
Part 1
My name is Evelyn Hart, and twenty minutes ago, I was certain my life was over inside Courtroom 302 of the New York County Supreme Court.
Across the aisle sat Brandon Hail, my husband of seven years, flashing the smug, diamond-sharp grin that always preceded cruelty. Next to him sat Julian Vance, a shark of an attorney billing twelve...
Part 1
My name is Evelyn Hart, and thirty seconds from now, a judge’s gavel will strip away everything I have left. I am standing completely alone at the petitioner’s table in the frigid air of Courtroom 402 at the New York County Supreme Court. Across the polished mahogany aisle sits my husband, Brandon Hail—a multimillionaire tech founder and the...
Part 1
My name is Evelyn Hart, and at this exact second, I am staring down the barrel of total financial ruin.
I sat alone at the respondent’s table in New York County Supreme Court, my fingers gripping the frayed strap of a five-dollar thrift-store handbag. Across the aisle, my soon-to-be ex-husband, Brandon Hail, looked like a million bucks in his...
Part 1
My name is Clara Evans, and six months into carrying my first child, I learned that betrayal does not whisper; it roars in front of five hundred elite guests.
I was standing frozen in the ballroom of the Grand Imperial Hotel in downtown Chicago, clutching my swelling stomach beneath an ivory silk gown. Up on the glittering charity gala...
Part 1
My name is Clara Evans, and tonight was supposed to be the crowning achievement of my marriage. Instead, it became an execution. Six months pregnant, wearing an ivory silk dress that barely concealed my trembling, I stood beneath the crystal chandeliers of Manhattan’s Grand Imperial ballroom, watching my husband Richard—the golden-boy CEO of Evans Technologies—step onto the marble...
Part 1
My name is Lauren Vance. I am thirty-one years old, seven months pregnant with what should have been my miracle baby, and right now, my husband’s mistress is pressing the cold barrel of a revolver against my temple.
We were in the private penthouse suite above downtown Chicago’s Millennium Tower, fifty stories in the air, with the city lights...
Part 1
My name is Marcus Vance, and as a Special Agent with the United States Secret Service, I am trained to handle high-stress situations without flinching. But right now, the cold steel barrel of a Glock 22 is pressed firmly against my temple, and the young police officer holding it is shaking so violently that a single accidental twitch...
Part 2
Cole’s hand shook as he fitted the key into the cuffs.
The steel opened.
I brought my arms forward slowly. Red bands circled both wrists, and my right hand tingled from the pressure.
Brooks saw the marks.
“Call medical.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“That wasn’t a request to you, ma’am.”
Under different circumstances, I might have smiled.
Cole stepped back.
“This is getting blown out of proportion.”
Brooks...
