Guilty Hearts The Scumbags Original Sin

Ninety-nine.

That was how many mistresses had shown up at my door, screaming provocations, demanding I step down to make room for them.

And Jackson Sharp? Not a single word of explanation. Not one.

Instead, he praised me. Voice smooth. Detached. "Well done. You're finally acting like a proper Mrs. Sharp."

My gaze dropped to the pregnancy test report crumpled in my fist—evidence the woman had shoved at me moments ago. A bitter laugh clawed up my throat.

"You said you'd never let any of your women get pregnant."