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Too Late To Beg: The Unwanted Wife Is An Heiress Novel Cover

Too Late To Beg: The Unwanted Wife Is An Heiress

I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance to become a nobody, just so my husband Ignatz could shine without being overshadowed. But after five years of silence and sacrifice, he held my hands across his desk and begged me to go to prison. "I need you to say you were driving the car," he pleaded. His mistress, Everleigh, had committed a hit-and-run. To save her career, he wanted his pregnant wife to take the fall. When I told him I was carrying his child, he didn't celebrate. He just looked annoyed and asked me to protect "us"—by which he meant her. The stress and the secret abuse from his mother caused me to miscarry alone in a freezing apartment. While I was bleeding out, losing the only thing that mattered, Ignatz was on a live broadcast, proposing to Everleigh with a diamond the size of a quail egg. He didn't know that Everleigh had a hysterectomy years ago and could never give him the family he claimed to want. He didn't know he had just killed his only real child to protect a liar. I didn't cry. I simply placed the ultrasound photo and my diary on the cake table at his engagement party. Then I accepted a job in Florence and vanished. Five years later, when he finally found me and slashed his own wrist to prove his regret, I looked at him with dead eyes. "You're at the wrong house, Ignatz," I said, closing the door. "There is nothing here for you to fix."
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Chapter 6

Ignatz POV

The music stopped. Or maybe my ears just stopped working, the world narrowing down to a single point.

I stared at the small, black-and-white photo resting on the ruined cake. It was a grainy image of a fetus.

"What is this?" I asked. My voice sounded small, distant, like it was coming from underwater.

"It was on her pillow," Kaleb said. He looked like he wanted to kill me. "Along with discharge papers for a miscarriage. Two days ago."

Miscarriage.

The word hit me like a physical blow to the gut. I remembered her outside the apartment building. You killed it. I had thought she was being dramatic. I thought she was lying to hurt me because I chose Everleigh.

"No," I whispered. "That's impossible. She... she would have told me."

"She tried!" Kaleb yelled. "She tried to tell you, and you asked her to take the fall for a felony!"

The guests were whispering, a hive of bees disturbed. Phones were out, recording.

Meredith rushed forward, snatching the photo off the cake as if it were radioactive. "This is fake! She's doing this for attention! She's jealous of Everleigh!"

"It's not fake, Meredith," Kaleb spat. "I saw the apartment. It's a hellhole. You let her live there?"

"She chose it!" Meredith shrieked, her composure cracking. "She wanted to be independent!"

Everleigh stood up, her face pale. But it wasn't sadness. It was fear.

"Ignatz," she whimpered, grabbing my arm with a grip that bruised. "Don't listen to him. Genevieve is a liar. She's trying to ruin our night. She's probably not even gone. She's probably hiding, laughing at us."

"She's gone, Everleigh," Kaleb said coldly. "Her phone is left behind. Her clothes are gone. She burned everything."

I looked at Everleigh, really looked at her. "Did you know?"

"Know what?" she blinked rapidly.

"That she was pregnant."

"No! How could I?" She squeezed my arm harder. "Baby, please. I'm feeling faint. This is too much stress. Our baby..."

She put a protective hand on her stomach.

"Our baby," I repeated.

Suddenly, a man stepped forward from the crowd. It was Dr. Evans, the family physician. He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wrestling with a silent dilemma.

"Mr. Turner," he said softly, stepping into the circle of light. "I... I feel I must intervene."

"Not now," Meredith snapped.

"No," Dr. Evans said firmly, finding his spine. "Now. Because this has gone too far." He looked at Everleigh with professional pity. "Ms. Everleigh cannot be pregnant, Ignatz."

Everleigh froze. Her grip on my arm turned into a claw.

"Shut up!" she hissed.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my head spinning.

"I treated Ms. Everleigh three years ago," the doctor said, his voice carrying in the silence. "After her... procedure. She had a total hysterectomy due to complications. It is biologically impossible for her to carry a child."

The room went silent. Dead silent.

I looked down at Everleigh. She wasn't crying anymore. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated panic.

"You... you said you were pregnant," I stammered. "That's why we rushed the engagement. That's why I asked Gen to..."

To take the blame. To protect the mother of my child.

"He's lying!" Everleigh screamed, her voice cracking. "He's paid off by Genevieve!"

She lunged at the doctor, her nails raking through the air.

"Everleigh, stop!" I grabbed her.

She spun on me, her face twisting into something ugly and unrecognizable. "Let me go! You idiot! You believed everything! You're so stupid!"

She shoved me. Hard.

I stumbled back, my heel catching on the podium. I fell, my head cracking against the sharp corner of the stage.

Pain exploded in my skull. Warm blood trickled down my neck.

Through the haze, I saw Meredith standing there, mouth open, doing nothing. I saw Everleigh screaming like a banshee.

And I saw Kaleb, holding a leather diary, looking at me with absolute disgust.

"Gen," I whispered, the darkness closing in.

I had sacrificed the real mother of my child for a woman who couldn't even have one.

I closed my eyes, and the only thing I could see was Genevieve's face in the snow, asking me, Is this your love?

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