Inside my coffin at my own funeral, I was poisoned and paralyzed while my husband declared me dead—unaware I could still hear every word and expose his betrayal from within.

tonight, you rich old witch,” he whispered in my ear.

“I’m going to take your fortune and fly my lover to Ibiza.”

His breath was warm.

His smile was poison.

I could not blink.

I could not scream.

I could not even give him the satisfaction of seeing fear.

But Julian had forgotten one thing.

He had married the woman who built half of Europe’s surveillance medicine.continue reading …