My Husband Killed Our Unborn Baby to Save his Beloved Woman
Three years after Theo Hayes and I got married, I finally conceived his baby.
Yet, around Valentine's Day, he personally performed an abortion on me.
With reddened eyes, he told me that my heart couldn't withstand the burden of pregnancy.
I was consumed with guilt and felt my body was not good enough and disappointed in Theo's deep love for me.
Behind a curtain, Theo was washing the blood from his hands.
"Theo, actually, if Dolores's current health is meticulously nurtured, there's a chance she could give birth to the baby. Why did you insist on..."
"I need the umbilical cord blood," Theo said coldly. "Teresa's condition requires a stem cell transplant from newborn umbilical cord blood.
Dolores's child is the best source, but a full-term delivery is too slow. Teresa can't wait so long.
So... I expedited the fetus's growth and induced labor at five months. Although the baby won't survive, the cord blood can be used.
Dolores wasn't going to live long anyway. It will be her final contribution to the Powell family that we used her baby to save Teresa.
Don't let Dolores know I expedited the fetus and induced it. Just tell her it was a stillbirth."
Dolores closed her eyes in despair, and tears streamed uncontrollably.
Her husband, Theo, killed their baby and even drained the last value from it.
He just used the baby's umbilical cord blood to save Soren Powell, my half-sister.
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Chapter 3
I woke up in the hospital corridor.
Theo didn't bring me there, but a passing security guard found me fainted in the snow and called an ambulance.
The doctor looked at my test results and shook his head. "Miss Powell, your heart condition is serious. You'll need specialized treatment and ongoing medication—likely costing several hundred thousand dollars."
Five hundred thousand.
I had the money.
Although I didn't hold any real power, I actually worked on the ore projects at the Powell company.
At the beginning of the year, the company distributed year-end bonuses based on performance, and I had a fifty-five-thousand bonus.
I'd earned that bonus through months of grueling work on the ore projects.
Dragging my ailing body, I rushed to Theo's office.
As I pushed open the door, I froze.
Theo was sitting in his chair, playing with a check in his hand.
Across from him sat Teresa, eagerly browsing an auction catalog on her iPad. "Theo, I really like this antique piano, but it's a bit expensive. It costs five hundred thousand."
Theo smiled indulgently and handed her the check. "Buy it. If you like it, no matter the price, we'll get it."
I saw the number on the check clearly.
It was fifty-five thousand.
It was precisely my year-end bonus.
I was overcome with anger as I rushed forward and pressed down on the check. "This is my money!" I stared at Theo with intensity. "This is my year-end bonus! It's the reward for my work on the projects!"
Teresa was startled and shrank back into Theo's arms. "Dolores, why are you so fierce..."
Theo frowned and brushed my hand away. "What do you mean? Your money? The company belongs to the Power family, so naturally, the money does, too. Teresa just had surgery and is in a bad mood. She needs to buy something to cheer up. You're her sister. Do you really want to squabble over this money?"
I stared at him in disbelief. "Squabble over this money? Theo, I need that money for my treatment!"
I pointed to my chest and said in a trembling voice, "The doctor said without proper care, my condition could become life-threatening!
Theo pulled out a file and frowned. "Your last check-up showed only mild arrhythmia. Why are you making it sound so dire? Is this really about the money?"
I looked at the report and felt as if struck by lightning.
The report wasn't mine—or at least, not the full truth. Someone had downplayed my condition long ago.
So Theo never trusted me.
Even when I collapsed from pain, he never believed me.
In his eyes, it was all an act. It was a ploy for sympathy.
"Theo, don't blame her." Teresa feigned innocence, tugging at his sleeve. "Since she wants the money so badly, just give it to her. I won't buy the piano."
"No way," Theo was resolute. "We can't indulge her when she is so greedy."
He took out a black bank card from his wallet and tossed it at me. "Use this. Stop acting like you haven't seen the world. Shame on you."
I picked up the bank card.
It was a supplementary card with a very low limit.
But I had no choice.
I need to survive. I had to buy the medication.
Swallowing my humiliation, I ran to the pharmacy. "Give me two boxes of imported targeted heart medication."
The pharmacist took the bank card and swiped it through the machine.
"Beep—" The red light came on.
The pharmacist handed the bank card back and looked peculiar. "Miss, this bank card is frozen."
I was stunned. "Impossible! This is Theo's bank card!"
Unwilling to give up, I asked him to try again.
It still didn't work.
Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Theo. "Teresa has her eye on a piece of jewelry, and the limit isn't enough, so I froze your bank card's limit. "If your condition isn't as serious as you claim, basic supplements should suffice."
Staring at those words, a chill spread through my body.
The pharmacist sighed and set the medication aside. "If the payment doesn't go through, I can't release these."
I stood at the pharmacy entrance and watched the bustling street.
In that moment, I understood: to Theo, my well-being meant less than a trinket for Teresa.
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The Disposal
Lolita begins as a woman discarded. Betrayed by her husband, Lyle, she is stripped of everything and thrown into the gutters of London. She is left with nothing but her wits in a world designed to erase her. Lyle didn't just leave her; he disposed of her like a spent asset, assuming she would quietly disappear. He was wrong.
Entering the Game: Franco Rossi
In the wreckage of her life, Lolita is forced into the Apex Bloom-the brutal survival game orchestrated by Franco Rossi. Franco is the underworld's apex predator, a man who believes in a world of absolute Darwinian ruthlessness. His game is designed to test the limits of human endurance, and he expects Lolita to be a pawn, a victim, or a fleeting distraction.
Breaking the Architect
Lolita doesn't just play Franco's game; she dismantles it. Using her brilliant mind and a newfound, weaponised confidence, she turns the Bloom into her own instrument of ascent. But her most calculated victory is over Franco himself.
Through an intoxicating display of dominant power and erotic prowess, Lolita targets the man behind the machine. She doesn't just win; she breaks Franco's stoic, masculine code, forcing a full surrender of his will. She seduces the power away from the enforcer, turning the architect of the game into her most devoted subject. She proves that her dominance isn't just about force-it's about a total, soul-deep conquest that leaves the city's most dangerous man kneeling at her feet.
The Rags to Riches Ascent
The journey from a discarded wife to the Queen of the Apex Bloom is paved with the ruin of those who underestimated her. Lolita uses her sexuality and her intellect as twin blades, seizing the wealth and the territories of the men who thought they were players. By the time the dust settles, she has achieved unimaginable riches and undisputed authority, standing at the head of an empire built on the shattered remains of Franco's former life.
The Final Sovereignty
The book concludes with Lolita standing at the absolute summit. Her marriage to Franco in the Cotswolds is the ultimate victory lap-a coronation where the man who once ran the game now serves its new Queen. They are bound by blood and law, but it is Lolita who holds the reins.
The story ends with The Syndicate, the global masters of the underworld, watching in shock. They thought they were dealing with another street-level syndicate; instead, they have found a woman who took the most lethal survival game in existence and made it her own.
7.1
After five years in a federal prison, framed by my stepmother and fiancé, I was finally released.
Instead of a welcome home, my stepmother tossed me a one-way ticket to Geneva and a threat: renounce the family name and disappear, or end up in the Hudson River.
When our limo was suddenly ambushed by military-grade SUVs on the highway, their cowardice almost got us killed.
I took the wheel, crashed the attackers, and saved their lives.
But the moment the danger passed, my stepmother tried to slap me, called me a psycho, and abandoned me on the desolate roadside.
My ex-fiancé later cornered me in public, trying to assert his dominance by grabbing my arm.
They still thought I was the broken girl they sent to a cage just so they could steal my dead mother's biochemical research.
I didn't feel heartbreak, only a cold, absolute certainty.
They threw me to the wolves, not realizing the federal penitentiary had burned away my capacity for mercy.
I hacked into the dark web and found out Dante Meltoni, the most dangerous Mafia Don in New York, was tearing the city apart to find a legendary underground doctor.
I am that doctor.
I walked straight into his heavily guarded fortress, pulled out a syringe, and saved his dying grandfather.
Then I looked the terrifying Don right in the eye.
"Marry me. And let me use your empire to wipe my family off the map."
7.4
What's worse than being trapped in an elevator with your gorgeous, Rich boss?
Being trapped with all three of them.
Jack, Gavin, and Harrison aren't just my bosses; they're my brother's filthy rich best friends.
After a steamy, unplanned hookup when the lights went out, I'm about to become much more than just the girl next door.
There's Jack, whose touch drives me wild.
Gavin, the cocky CEO whose dirty orders I can't wait to obey.
And Harrison, the sweet, passionate one who pours his heart into everything... including me.
I've waited years for these men to finally see me. Now, I belong to them. My body is theirs to devour, my bed is theirs to break. But giving them my heart is a terrifying risk, and I just pray they don't shatter it.
7.8
Growing up as the maid's daughter in the glittering, suffocating Collins mansion, Nora Macie has perfected the art of being invisible. Enter Asher Collins. Rich, ruthless, and infuriatingly untouchable, unfortunately for Nora, her stepbrother has always had the power to ruin her with a single word.
The moment a private video she never intended anyone to see is accidentally sent straight to Asher Collins. Except Asher doesn't expose her. He becomes curious... and dangerously invested.
He will remake her. Not just into someone noticed, but into someone unforgettable, someone who commands attention the moment she walks into a room.
Suddenly, the boys who never knew her name are watching her. Through it all, Asher remains in control... or at least he should be.
Because the closer Nora gets to becoming everything he designed, the harder it becomes for him to remember that she was never meant to be his.
*
His fingers lifted, brushing lightly along the side of her throat. "I think you've been lying to yourself," he said. "Because your body already knows what it wants."
Her breath faltered. "I swear, I'll kill you if you don't back the hell up."
And then, without giving her the chance to retreat, he closed the final inch between them. "I would much rather you kiss me."
7.4
I was the wife of Damien Valenti, the most ruthless mafia Don in Chicago.
But to cement his power and marry a rival family's daughter, he exiled me to the slums without a single dime.
"Stay not as my wife, Izzy, but as my whore."
That was his final ultimatum before dumping me out of his black SUV like trash.
Terrified of losing me, my five-year-old son, Angelo, secretly hid in the car to follow me.
Two days later, in a squalid Indiana motel, Angelo caught severe pneumonia.
I had no money and no doctor. In sheer desperation, I sliced my own wrist with broken glass, pressing my bleeding arm to his pale lips, begging him to drink and live.
But my little boy died in my arms.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Damien was sipping vintage champagne with his new bride, casually dismissing the life of his own flesh and blood.
The grief turned me into a monster. I spent twenty years clawing my way through the underworld to destroy his empire, only to die with a bullet in my chest.
I gave him my absolute devotion, yet he traded our family for political power without a single ounce of hesitation.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hellish neon-lit motel room.
Angelo was burning with fever and fighting for air, but he was still breathing.
This time, I wasn't the naive girl who loved Damien Valenti. I was a woman holding two decades of their darkest secrets, and my vendetta had just begun.
7.7
In my past life, the bullet chambered in the gun on the desk was less lethal than the indifference of the two men standing beside me.
Dante and Matteo were supposed to be the future kings of Chicago, and I was their queen.
But they threw it all away for Sofia—a liar with a pretty face and a fake sob story about a gambling father.
They forced me into a gilded cage, making me serve Sofia like a maid while they played her saviors.
They let me rot in isolation until I swallowed a bottle of pills just to escape the coldness of their neglect.
They didn't even mourn me; they were too busy comforting the girl who would eventually destroy them.
I died realizing that my loyalty was my fatal flaw.
I had worshipped men who saw me as nothing more than an accessory, while they sacrificed their empire for a woman who played them for fools.
But the universe has a sick sense of humor.
It sent me back.
Back to the day that sealed my fate.
The Consigliere pushed the assignment papers toward us—the path to becoming Bosses.
"We are not going," Dante said, looking at me with cold eyes. "Sofia needs us. She is fragile."
In my past life, I begged them to stay.
This time, I stepped forward and picked up the pen.
"I will go," I said, signing my name in sharp black ink.
"I don't need your protection anymore."