Reborn as Empress While My Ex-Husband's Family Begs for Mercy

he merchant's brat who'd "

ed dry. Thrown

ame to ash-with them st

epsister draped herself in her late mother's jewels. And every last o

a s

she'd returne

o finish what

*

across the polished mahogany. The i

it, Au

nce questioned his right to destroy her. The ruby on his pink

ilure to produce an heir," "conduct unbecoming of the Thorne name"-and then she looked

. Accusations. Perhaps a dramatic collapse to h

merchant blood is a stain on this family. The Thorne cr

married me, Alistair. My adoptive father's fortune rebuilt your shipping fleet. M

eing reminded of debts he considered already paid. "That wa

ing your estate's shortfall from my own accounts. And you made certain I couldn't bear children, didn't you? T

shed an ugly red. His mouth opened,

She walked around the desk, her steps unhurried, her hands clasped loosely before he

won't contest the dissolution. But I won't sign a divorce. I'll sign an annulment. It gives you a cleaner break

e offer was too convenient. Too perfect. He'd expected a fight. Th

into her sleeve and laid it on the desk. "Right here.

ous-she claimed no property, no restitution, no future claims.

seized i

s chest before his fingers even touche

his waistcoat, at the dark stain spreading across the Thorne crest embroide

is ear. Her voice was low and trembling-f

ad my brother beaten until his mind shattered, left him a simpleton, useless and forgotten. And then you married me. You made me your servant, your accountant, your fool. You made me manage your household, cover your d

sted th

ted, and discarded. And now you will die knowing that I

is blood pooling beneath him. She s

in the east wing. Your brother is in the library. My people have locked every door and s