I worked double shifts, saving every penny, convinced our family was barely making ends meet. My husband, Mark, managed a struggling car dealership, but for Thanksgiving, he booked a table at The Grand Steer. I arrived, envisioning a rare, happy family meal with Emily and him. Instead, Mark was there with our seven-year-old daughter, Emily, and his visibly pregnant high school sweetheart, Jessica. My heart froze as I overheard him casually explain he'd "taken care of" our beloved dog, Buster, because Jessica found him an inconvenience. When I confronted him, Emily, my daughter, shockingly screamed, "I wish Jessica was my mom! You always cared more about that stupid dog than me!" Utterly decimated by their betrayal, I filed for divorce and, in a moment of raw despair, told Mark to take full custody of Emily. Weeks later, a frantic call: Emily was in a severe car accident, needing a critical A-negative blood transfusion. But I'm O-negative, and Mark always claimed O-positive. The doctor's next words chilled me: "O-type parents cannot have an A-type child." The horrifying truth crashed down. My entire motherhood, the difficult IVF, Mark's secret files calling Emily "their legacy"-it was all a lie. She wasn't my child, but Jessica's, a cruel deception orchestrated through an embryo switch. My world exploded, but from the ashes, a cold, unyielding fire of revenge ignited.
I worked double shifts, saving every penny, convinced our family was barely making ends meet.
My husband, Mark, managed a struggling car dealership, but for Thanksgiving, he booked a table at The Grand Steer.
I arrived, envisioning a rare, happy family meal with Emily and him.
Instead, Mark was there with our seven-year-old daughter, Emily, and his visibly pregnant high school sweetheart, Jessica.
My heart froze as I overheard him casually explain he'd "taken care of" our beloved dog, Buster, because Jessica found him an inconvenience.
When I confronted him, Emily, my daughter, shockingly screamed, "I wish Jessica was my mom! You always cared more about that stupid dog than me!"
Utterly decimated by their betrayal, I filed for divorce and, in a moment of raw despair, told Mark to take full custody of Emily.
Weeks later, a frantic call: Emily was in a severe car accident, needing a critical A-negative blood transfusion.
But I'm O-negative, and Mark always claimed O-positive.
The doctor's next words chilled me: "O-type parents cannot have an A-type child."
The horrifying truth crashed down.
My entire motherhood, the difficult IVF, Mark's secret files calling Emily "their legacy"-it was all a lie.
She wasn't my child, but Jessica's, a cruel deception orchestrated through an embryo switch.
My world exploded, but from the ashes, a cold, unyielding fire of revenge ignited.
Introduction
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Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
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Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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