The Billionaire's Genius Wife's Ultimate Cold Revenge

the Upper East Side penthouse, a violent, rhythmic drumm

r was thick with the scent

thermometer in her hand. The

0

red. The sound was sma

ed her five-year-old daughter into her arms. Lily's skin w

e got you," Emelie whisp

hone with her free ha

Two ring

ic

voicemail of Clifton W

the call and

d to not be alone in this cavernous, empty ho

to voicemail this tim

She opened her text messages and typed rap

. Going to NY-Presbyter

ged to Read ins

s. Her eyes rolled back, showing only the whites

ile se

Lily!" Emel

the nanny. She didn'

ning her vision. She hoisted Lily ont

taircase. Through

glacial pace near the coat closet. "Madam, it i

ie roared, her voice unrec

yes widening, but she pulled

ouse in seconds, plastering it to her skin. She didn't feel the cold.

with rain. She threw Lily into the car seat, buckling

eeled out of the driveway, the tire

a losing battle against the deluge. The city

d dial on the dashb

ou are dialing is

word out, hitting the

taxi, running a red

d "EMERGENCY" sign of New York-P

trance, tossing the keys toward a

liding glass doors, Lily l

aos. Coughing, crying,

daughter. High fever. Seizure.

. She slid a clipboard across the counter

slammed her hand on the co

n Emelie's soaked blouse, the messy hair, the wild ey

is sick. Take a seat a

sp. Her lips were taking o

ere swollen. Clubbing. This wasn't just a flu. T

oice dropping an octave, turning ice

walked by, holding a chart. He stopped

just a viral

Emelie

lower the temp first. Tyl

Lily's hand toward him. "Check the capillary

y the backseat driving. "We'll get

rward and vomited clear f

or she was near

%... 80%

c er

ris yelled, his demea

gside the gurney, gripping the metal r

phone vibrated vio

t out, thinking

notification

and Muse Eleanora Hardy

mb froze ove

photo. Hig

et over Eleanora's shoulders. He was looking at her with a practiced, cinematic te

, her hand resting in

mp was ten

ie was screaming at a nurse. While

keeping his

It wasn't a loud break. It was a qu

thing else rose up to meet

lover's daug

bay. A portable CT machine was a

e airway!" Dr. Aris

ocket. She stepped up to the monit

d to step back!

ared at the grayscale imag

Like shattered glass scatte

anual, hesitating. "Is that..

er voice was steady, devoid of

ow line, pointing a tremb

the ground-glass opacities in the lower lobes. T

elie, really looked at her, for

the words flying out of her mouth with the precision of a machine

hout a confirmed diagnosis," Dr. Aris stammered.

lie hissed. She grabbed the consent form from the counter, snat

g Diffuse Alveolar Hemorrhage and she codes, the autopsy will confirm I was r

a housewife. She held up her phone, displaying a graph from a restricted medical

e of her will, backed by the specific d

he ordered the nur

sprang in

tiled wall. She watched them intubate her dau

down the wall to the floor, p

ollably now. Not from fear. Bu

ne buzz

ooked

g Call: