Single Mom Defies Husband
After Lina Jenkins had just given birth and was wheeled out of the recovery room, her husband, Carson Adams, wanted to discuss something with her. "You wanted her, so you'll be the one raising our daughter," he said. "Don't expect any help from anyone else. My mother doesn't owe you anything."
Lina nodded. "That's fine," she replied calmly. After her recovery, Lina moved back to her parents' home with her baby daughter, Jazlyn. Her parents, Carolina Gray and Hayes Carpenter, were thrilled to welcome their granddaughter. "This little one will carry on our family name," Hayes said proudly. "She'll be the future of our family business!"
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Once the surgery was completed, the nurse, Itzel Dunn, wheeled Lina out of the delivery room, smiling as she announced that both mother and daughter were doing well. However, Carson's mood was anything but joyful.
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Chapter 13
Under the strong insistence of her parents, a few days later, Lina Jenkins returned home with her caregiver and midwife, Nayeli Spencer, accompanying her. She briefly recounted the actions of her husband, Carson Adams, to them.
Carolina Gray, her mother, gripped Lina's hand tightly, tears streaming down her face from sheer heartache. "No wonder you've lost so much weight. You've been through so much!" she exclaimed.
Lina replied with a touch of frustration, "How could you tell I've lost weight?" Even during her pregnancy, she never neglected her health. With the professional care of her nutritionist, Zainab Chapman, and her postnatal recovery specialist, Charli Wells, Lina's complexion was now better than before she had given birth.
Hayes Carpenter, her father, spoke with deep regret, "It's my fault for not seeing his true nature and allowing you to end up with someone like Carson."
Lina gently shook her head, "It's not your fault. He put on a very convincing act."
Over coffee in the cozy, Victorian-styled living room, they continued discussing the situation. Lina fondly recalled the Thanksgiving dinner they had all shared the previous year, filled with laughter and warmth—a stark contrast to her current situation. She cherished the memory of the spiced honey cake her mother had baked, a comforting thought amidst the turmoil.
"At least we have each other," Carolina said, trying to lighten the mood, "and we should plan another family gathering soon. Let's forget about the pulled pork sandwiches and focus on being grateful for what we have."
Lina nodded, appreciating the gentle attempt at optimism. She offered a smile, knowing that these moments together would help her face the challenges that lay ahead.
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9.1
I was the orphaned "parasite" of the Tyler family, taken in only to be abused for fifteen years after my parents died in a tragic car crash.
To finally escape their control, I sold my first time to my ruthless billionaire boss, Ellsworth Mosley, for one million dollars.
I thought it was a clean transaction.
But the next morning, covered in severe bruises he left on me, I was handed a brutal contract with a fifty-million-dollar penalty.
He didn't just buy my silence; he bought me.
My nightmare only worsened when my adoptive family found out about my connection to the billionaire.
Instead of disgust, they invited me to a hypocritical family dinner.
"Talk to Mosley, convince him to invest in our failing business," my adoptive father demanded shamelessly.
His son, who had tormented me for years, even grabbed my hand.
"Do this, and we can be officially engaged. You'll finally be a real Tyler."
They wanted me to whore myself out to save the family that had treated me like a stray dog.
I shattered my wine glass, cursed them to go bankrupt, and walked out into the rain.
As I reached the door, my phone vibrated with a terrifying summons from Ellsworth.
But it was the panicked whisper behind me that froze my blood.
"She knows about the brakes on her parents' car. If anyone finds out what we did, we'll go to prison."
They murdered my parents.
I gripped my phone, accepting the devil's call.
Since I was already bound to a monster, I would use his power to drag them all to hell.
8.5
I checked my reflection in the glass wall of the conference room, smoothing down my navy Armani suit. The board meeting had gone exceptionally well—another acquisition secured, another step toward expanding my tech empire. My phone buzzed with a calendar reminder: Ryan's birthday tomorrow. I smiled, thinking of the Rolex Daytona nestled in my purse. Ryan had been eyeing it for months, casually pointing it out in magazine spreads, sighing about how men like him "deserved nice things." Little did he know I'd purchased it weeks ago. The $40,000 price tag hadn't even made me flinch. "Victoria, that presentation was brilliant," Jessica, my executive assistant, said as she collected my documents. "The board practically ate out of your hand."
"Thanks, Jess." I glanced at my watch. "What time is my flight tomorrow?"
"2 PM. You'll be back in New York by 10."
I bit my lip, an impulsive thought forming.
8.3
The sound of laughter drew my attention across the crowded ballroom. Not just any laughter—Leon's laughter. Full-bodied and genuine, a sound so rare in our home that it felt like hearing a stranger's voice. I froze with my champagne flute halfway to my lips, watching my husband of eight years throw his head back in delight at something Nola Shaw had said. His childhood friend had returned from abroad just two weeks ago, and tonight at the company's annual gala, she commanded the room in a burgundy dress that complemented her olive skin perfectly. But it wasn't her appearance that made my stomach twist into knots. It was the way Leon leaned in when she spoke, the casual way his hand rested on her forearm, the sparkle in his eyes I hadn't seen directed at me in years. If ever. "They seem close," remarked Sandra from accounting, following my gaze. I forced a smile.
9.5
The elevator's soft ding echoed through the marble hallway as I stepped onto the penthouse floor of Victor's building. My heels clicked against the polished stone, each step carrying me closer to what I hoped would be a peaceful evening with my fiancé. The weight of my grandfather's heirloom necklace rested against my collarbone—a comforting presence that always reminded me of his words about dignity and self-worth. I used my key to enter Victor's apartment, expecting to find him reviewing business documents in his study as usual. Instead, I heard soft laughter drifting from the master bedroom—feminine laughter that wasn't mine. "It really does suit you better," came Noor's voice, followed by the rustle of fabric. "The cut is perfect for your figure."
My blood turned to ice. I moved silently down the hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs. Through the partially open bedroom door, I saw her—Noor Herrera, Victor's widowed sister-in-law, standing before the full-length mirror wearing my custom wedding dress. The ivory silk cascaded around her petite frame, the intricate beadwork catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows.
8.6
On the day of the company's annual gala, I spotted a sign posted at the entrance of the banquet hall. “Annalise Stewart and dogs prohibited.”
I asked the staff to take down the sign just as Liliana Guzman strolled up, looking smug. “Annalise, it's just a harmless joke, right? You’re cool with it, aren’t you?” she said. I frowned, ready to retort, but before I could speak, Wesley Castro came out from the banquet hall. “What's the commotion here? Liliana’s just having a bit of fun. You shouldn’t take it so seriously.”
Liliana threw me a triumphant look. As the awards ceremony was about to start, I decided not to argue with Wesley and made my way inside. To my surprise, the grand prize meant for me was given to Liliana.
7.9
Just because I accidentally spilled hot water on my husband's secretary, he locked me in a sauna for eight hours. Right before I lost consciousness, my husband finally sent someone to get me out. He sternly warned me, “This is just a little lesson. If I ever see you hurt Bailee again, next time, it won’t be this easy for you.”
I lay on the stretcher, calmly responding with a simple “Alright.”
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On the day I was discharged, I stood outside the front door and overheard lively chatter inside. “Rhys, if you dislike Adelaide so much, why not just get a divorce?” Colin Harris asked smugly. Rhys made a noise of irritation. “My mom insists that only she can file for divorce. If I do, she’ll hand over the company to someone else. I don’t know what kind of spell Adelaide cast on her.”
His tone was full of impatience. Bailee Rose chimed in, “Mr.