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While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Chapter 6 The car crash that killed your parents... it wasn't an accident

Word Count: 710    |    Released on: 09/03/2026

es' Row luxury condominiums smelled

it, looked June up and down. He took in her plain black coat and l

entry-level units in this building start at twenty million dollars

rd to yell at him, but June s

ard and dropped it onto the glass desk.

The color drained from his face, repla

house," June said, her

e agent practically tripped over his o

loor. When the doors opened, the v

e apartment, offering an unobstructed, god-like

see the faint outline of the neighborhood where the Compton esta

babbled nervously behind her. "It includes a

round. "The purchase will be made through a pri

agent gripped the back of a c

finally turning to look at him. "I mov

t within the hour!" the agent gasp

echoing penthouse, June's p

n unknow

swered.

ice came through the speaker. "It'

nuckles turned white. Her heart skipped a beat

about your divorce. You're no longer under the Com

sive terrace, the wind howli

ent," Arthur said, his voice dropping to a terrified whisper.

She grabbed the glass railing

ur said. "And... he was meeting with someone from a powerful family.

in June's vein

d frantically. "But they found

ed instantly. "I'll giv

me at the abandoned Brooklyn Nav

ne wen

es. Her marriage hadn't just been a lie; it might have b

ace. "Everything okay? You lo

eyes, staring out at the city, we

ra," June said, her voice vibrating wi

ding a thick leather folder. "Congratulatio

tal keys. They felt li

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While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
“As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.”