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Wife Unveils Husband's Fraud Novel Cover

Wife Unveils Husband's Fraud

The polished hardwood of the auditorium seat felt cold beneath my fingertips as I leaned forward, eyes fixed on the ceiling where my daughter performed her final rehearsal. Twenty meters above the stage, Stella moved with a grace that belied her fifteen years, her body twisting and turning through the air as if gravity were merely a suggestion rather than law. "She's magnificent," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. The theater was nearly empty for this last practice session, just a handful of instructors, stage crew, and me—Victoria Sterling, the proud mother who never missed a performance. I watched as Stella executed a perfect midair split, her safety harness and rigging cables barely visible against the dark ceiling of the auditorium. "Mrs. Sterling?" The choreographer approached, clipboard in hand. "Tomorrow's going to be spectacular. Stella has the most natural talent I've seen in years." I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from my daughter. "She's worked so hard for this." "It shows.
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Chapter 2

Stella's blood pooled around her golden hair like a crimson halo. My body moved on instinct, maternal terror propelling me forward as I gathered her limp form in my arms. Her skin was already growing cold, her pulse fluttering weakly beneath my trembling fingers.

"I need to get her to a hospital!" I screamed, clutching my daughter's broken body to my chest. The weight of her, so light in my arms, felt like it would crush me. "Please, she's dying!"

I spotted paramedics rushing in through the side entrance, stretcher in hand. Hope surged through me as I staggered toward them, Stella's blood soaking through my silk blouse.

"This way," one called, gesturing toward the exit where an ambulance waited, lights flashing through the glass doors. "We need to move quickly!"

I was halfway there when a wall of black-suited men materialized, blocking our path. I recognized Liam Carter, Marcus's head of security, at the center. His expression was stone, eyes devoid of compassion as he raised his hand in a stopping gesture.

"Mrs. Sterling," he said, voice flat. "I'm afraid you'll need to remain inside."

"Are you insane?" I tried to push past him, Stella's blood dripping onto the polished floor. "My daughter is dying!"

The paramedics hesitated, looking uncertainly between me and the imposing security team. One of them stepped forward. "Sir, this child needs immediate medical attention. We need to—"

Liam's men physically pushed them back, hands on their chests. "Orders from Mr. Sterling himself," Liam said. "The girl stays here."

Disbelief warred with rising panic as I clutched Stella tighter. "Marcus would never—" The words died in my throat as spotlights suddenly blazed to life, illuminating the stage entrance.

Marcus stood there, immaculate in his tailored suit, surveying the scene with clinical detachment. The husband I'd loved for seventeen years, the father of our child, looked at his bleeding daughter without a flicker of concern.

"Marcus!" I called out, voice breaking. "Tell them to let us through! Stella needs a hospital!"

His eyes met mine, and I saw nothing—no recognition, no love, no humanity. He walked forward with measured steps, but instead of coming to me, he moved to Amanda's side. His hand settled on her shoulder in a gesture of possession and protection that made my stomach turn.

"Victoria," he said, his voice carrying through the theater with practiced authority. "This unfortunate incident is the result of your daughter's... persistence in taking opportunities that weren't meant for her."

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. "What are you saying? She's your daughter too!"

His smile was cold, reptilian. "A technicality I've tolerated for far too long."

Amanda leaned into his touch, triumph gleaming in her eyes. "Claire is his true heir," she announced to the murmuring audience. "Your daughter stole her spotlight. Now she'll give something back."

Before I could process her words, the crowd parted to admit a woman in a white coat. Dr. Evelyn Reed, a physician I recognized from Marcus's company wellness center, approached with a medical case in hand. Her face was ashen, eyes darting nervously between Marcus and me.

"Dr. Reed," Amanda's voice was silky with authority. "Claire needs the transfusion now. Extract what we need."

The doctor's hands trembled as she opened her case. "Mrs. Sterling, I—I'm sorry, but Claire has a rare condition. She needs a specific blood type, and Stella is a match. Mr. Sterling has authorized—"

"You can't be serious," I gasped, backing away. "She's already lost too much blood!"

Liam stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over us. "Dr. Reed has her orders."

"Please," I begged, looking into the doctor's eyes. "She'll die."

Dr. Reed's face contorted with shame, but she prepared the needle anyway. "I'll take only what's absolutely necessary," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

As the needle pierced my daughter's pale arm, drawing out what little life remained in her, I felt something inside me crack—then harden. The Victoria who believed in love and family and happily-ever-after died in that moment, replaced by something colder and infinitely more dangerous.

I looked up at Marcus, memorizing every line of his smirking face. This wasn't just betrayal. This was war.

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