The moment the newborn was handed to her, the husband stormed into the hospital room, stared at the baby’s unusually white skin, and sneered, “Why is she White? You really think I’ll believe she’s mine?” He demanded an immediate divorce before the doctor could explain the baby’s rare pigmentation condition. She signed the papers without begging. Three weeks later, the DNA test proved he was indeed the father-and the final divorce decree revealed that by walking away, he had just legally forfeited…
feral. “They will walk right into the slaughterhouse with smug smiles on their faces.”
“I want them comfortable,” I insisted, my voice pure, unyielding ice. “I want them arrogant. I want them to feel like royalty. Because when the floor drops out from beneath them, I want them to feel every single inch of the fall.”
Would Marcus’s towering ego blind continue reading …
