Chapter 2A Bone Marrow Lie, A Husband’s Ruin

Gideon’s face was a thundercloud, dark and menacing. "Aurora, stop being so dramatic."

"Felicity's body can't wait," he said, his tone final. "At the charity gala next week, I'll formally announce that I'm adopting her as my sister. At the same time, I'll announce your marrow donation. Consider it a good deed. It will be good for your public image."

He leaned in, his voice a low threat. "If you dare ruin that gala, don't blame me for what comes next."

I looked at this man I had shared a bed with for five years and saw a complete stranger.

"Who do you think you are, Gideon? God Almighty?" I shot back. "What you announce has nothing to do with me. I won't sign the consent form. Let's see which doctor dares to touch me then."

Nestled in Gideon’s arms, Felicity let out a series of weak coughs. "Gideon, please, don't force her. Aurora already hates me."

"I won't get the treatment," she whimpered. "Just let me go. I can be with my sister in the afterlife. I'm just a burden here anyway."

Gideon's arms tightened around her protectively. "Don't say that. I will save you."

He turned his venomous gaze back to me. "Aurora, your family's company is preparing to go public, isn't it? A critical time."

"If the world finds out that the great heiress of the Croft family is so cold-hearted she'd watch someone die rather than get a simple marrow test... I wonder what the SEC would think of that."

"You can leave my family's business out of this," I said, my voice ice. I laid down the gauntlet. "You want to use public opinion to pressure me? Go ahead. Let's see who ends up destroyed in the end."

Cradling Rosie, I went straight to the nursery on the second floor and locked the door behind me.

After I soothed Rosie back to sleep, I pulled out my burner phone.

Aurora Croft was no pushover. I had seen potential in Gideon, given him the resources and connections to climb to where he was today. If he was going to throw that all away, then I would be the one to drain him dry.

I dialed the number for my private hacker, K.

"K, I need you to trace the international transfers from an account."

For five years, Felicity had been wiring enormous sums of money overseas under various pretenses. She thought she was being clever, but I’d noticed long ago. I just hadn't cared enough to investigate.

Now, it seemed the destination of that money was about to become very interesting.

Less than thirty minutes later, the files arrived in my encrypted inbox. I clicked them open, and the more I read, the more absurd it all became.

All the funds were funneled into an Australian account under the name Vivienne.

And this Vivienne’s spending habits were nothing short of decadent. One day it was limited-edition handbags, the next it was chartering yachts for wild parties.

But the real prize was what K found next. He’d hacked into an international social media platform and unearthed Vivienne’s private account. It was a gallery of debauchery.

Photo after photo of a woman in oversized sunglasses and a skimpy bikini, with a different blond muscle-boy on each arm.

Even with half her face covered, I instantly recognized the distinctive beauty mark on her chin.

This wasn't some stranger named Vivienne.

It was Seraphina Monroe. The very same Seraphina who had supposedly been burned to ashes in a tragic fire.

I stared at the screen, a cold, sharp smile spreading across my lips.

So much for the sainted woman who died in a blaze of glory.

She and her sister had played Gideon for the fool, staging the perfect tragedy. They weren't just after his money. They were after my life.

"Having fun abroad, are we, Seraphina?" I murmured to the screen.

"Since you’re not dead, allow me to prepare a special welcome-home gift for you."

The next morning, I showered, styled my hair, and applied a full face of flawless makeup. As I descended the stairs, I saw Gideon in the dining room, patiently feeding Felicity a bowl of expensive bird's nest soup.

His eyes turned cold as he saw me. "Have you come to your senses? If so, get to the hospital for your pre-op exam."

I walked to the dining table, poured myself a black coffee, and took a sip with unhurried grace.

"Gideon," I said, my voice calm and clear. "Let's get a divorce."