My Celebrity Therapist's Cruel Deception

On my tenth wedding anniversary, I found my celebrity therapist husband naked with our housekeeper. He called it "somatic therapy." I was pregnant with our miracle baby and secretly battling a brain tumor.

But when his lover faked a fall and a miscarriage, framing me for it, he chose her.

The fall caused me to lose my actual baby. As I lay bleeding on the floor, my husband scoffed, "Don't play games, Alexis," and rushed her to the hospital.

He then had me committed to a psychiatric facility, publicly painting me as delusional to protect his reputation and his affair.

He thought he had gotten rid of me forever.

But he didn't know my sister would break me out. He didn't know I would fake my own death to escape.

Now, I'm back. And I'm about to teach the good doctor a lesson in consequences.