My Husband Faked an Illness to Punish Me,Until I Left for Good

After my seventh miscarriage, the Family physician handed down a death sentence.

If I lost another child, I would die on his table.

To save my own life, I spoke the word divorce to Dominic Falcone for the first time. In this world they call it breaking the bloodline pact, a mortal insult, and I knew the cost of the word even as it left my mouth.

That cold, disgusted face of his cracked for a moment, and he agreed with a sneer.

The next day I woke locked inside the estate greenhouse, the glass sealed and the heat climbing past a hundred and forty degrees.