Nine C-Section, Nine Dead Sons, One Escape novel Chapter 45

Chapter 13

Jo’s Perspective

After Evelyn left, I was nothing.

Hartwell Industries collapsed. No one helped. The Ashfords finished us. Bankrupt.

Debts everywhere. The house, the cars, even the old family place, gone.

Tiffany’s belly kept growing.

I didn’t want the kid.

She went to my grandmother anyway.

Gram’s last words, barely conscious, holding my hand, “Let her have it. Give the family an heir.”

She left me money. Her whole life’s savings.

Half paid debts. The rest was supposed to be enough.

Tiffany spent like water. She wanted designer bags, high-end jewelry, tasting menus at Michelin-starred

restaurants.

She still thought I was rich. But I couldn’t keep up.

Then I saw the LV.

“Where’d you get that?”

She rolled her eyes. “You had money. You just didn’t spend it on me. Some husband.”

I checked the account.

Empty. Every last cent.

I lost it.

I forgot… for one second… that she was pregnant.

One push.

That’s all it took.

The baby was gone. She hemorrhaged. Lost her uterus.

After that, we hated each other. But I still took care of her. Brought her home from the hospital. Made sure

she was okay.

Chapter 13

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Three years I gave him my blood to heal his legs. He used them to walk to her.

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Third night, she picked up the fruit knife I’d just used to cut her apple and stabbed me.

Last thing I saw was her face twisted, spit flying. “Die. Just die.”

And then…

Evelyn.

Snow falling everywhere. She was standing there in it, holding-an umbrella, smiling at me like nothing bad

had ever happened.

“Hey. Walk with me?”

I smiled back.

Evie.

I’m sorry.

Next time… I’ll get it right.

Chapter 13

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Three years I gave him my blood to heal his legs. He used them to walk to her

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Chapter 1

The last patient of my shift was Julian Vance, my husband.

The ultrasound report he slid across tny desk confirmed a three-week pregnancy. He was the father. His

mistress of five years was the mother.

I slid the report back across the desk toward him. “Congratulations. This is what you wanted.”

He went still, then his expression hardened. “That’s it? You have nothing else to say to me?”

I stared at the proof of my husband’s child with another woman. Part of me expected to lose it like I always had. But I was too exhausted to fight anymore.

“I’ve gotten it out of my system. Once Tiffany has the baby, I’ll be ready to settle down for good.”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. “Julian, the contract is up.”

***

Julian had been looking incredibly smug, but my words made him look up. He frowned. “What contract? Is this some new game to pick a fight?”

He’d forgotten. My grip on the desk tightened until my knuckles went white. Even breathing hurt.

“I’m not starting anything. You’re right. I’m done trying to police you. Do whatever you want.”

Julian rubbed his temples. He threw his hands up and leaned back, visibly irritated.

“Everyone we know does this. Having a girl on the side is normal in our circle. Look at Arthur Sterling, Edgar Beaumont-do their wives throw a tantrum over it? Have I ever left you wanting for anything? If you were half as understanding as Tiffany, you wouldn’t be such a headache.”

I’d heard this speech a thousand times in the past five years.

Five years ago, everyone knew Julian was chasing me. I turned him down repeatedly. My mother was sick, and I couldn’t think about anything else.

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When her condition became critical, he offered me a deal, marry him, and he’d pay five million to cover her treatment. His money got her access to an experimental drug that had just been cleared.

She died less than a year after the wedding anyway.

That was when Julian started sleeping with Tiffany Reed. I caught them together in our bed while we hadn’t even unpacked all our wedding gifts. There were handprints smeared across our wedding photo. The evidence was everywhere.

I’d smashed everything I could get my hands on that day. He said I was hysterical and tiresome.