My mother sneered, “Scrub harder, parasite,” forcing my heavily pregnant wife to wash her feet while a doctor held a syringe. Instead of fighting my filming brother, I quietly carried my wife out of the mansion. They laughed and called me a coward, completely unaware that in just 15 hours…

my chest.

“Pack a bag,” I told her softly, pressing my forehead against hers.

Eleanor let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. “For her? You’re throwing her out? Good. The doctor can take her to a facility—”

“For us,” I interrupted, rising to my feet while keeping Emily safely tucked behind me.

Liam pushed off the stairs, trying to puff out his chest. “You’re continue reading …