Five minutes after the ink dried on my divorce papers, Adrian Castillo was already racing toward a private clinic to celebrate his mistress’s pregnancy, leaving me with nothing but the children he deemed dead weight

future. He wanted an heir. He wanted a legacy that didn’t include the ‘burden’ of the children he had fathered with me. He was so blinded by his own vanity that he didn’t notice the look of profound discomfort on the doctor’s face.

Dr. Reynolds cleared his throat, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He didn’t look at the screen. He continue reading …