I Was His Wife, Now I'm His Ruin

ght no warmth. Seraphina sat on a stool, staring into a mug of black c

ang. A priv

d immediate

is the emergency department at Lenox Hill Hospita

, ceramic shards exploding like shrapnel. Coffee splashed o

. is he

lood alcohol level was near lethal. H

oa

brother. The man who had systematically dism

co

second set of keys to her sedan "for maintenance" last week and n

ride-sharing app, her fingers flyin

ely saw from the back of the Toyota Camry. Her hands gripped her knees so hard her

into t

g, she gasped at

ng. Ro

. The Sterlings were broke. Seba

ssantly against the floor. When the doors opene

aning against the wall outside Room 402, checking his watch.

iquor, little girl, Thom

ing, not with fear, but with a rage so pure it

. potential investment, Thomas shrugg

t of m

s she turned the corner to

side the door. Sittin

wasn'

a woman's hand.

ook fragile, angelic. She was dabbing at dry eyes with a lace handk

concern-a look he hadn't given Seraphina in years. He w

heels clicking on the lin

rise; they narrowed in annoyance. He stood up, bu

he asked, his voi

f the question

ice trembling. "Dying. Because of her brothe

o her chest, clutching the fabric of her sweater

It was a performanc

ed away from his wife instantly. "Easy, easy. Do

a glance at Seraphina through her las

She watched him panic over a theatrical fainting spe

he last thread of hope, the last lingering wish t

It was a dry,

ic, Harrison,

he fished a pill bottle from Tiffany's purse. "My

hina said coldly. "

walked into Room 402, slamming