sa

rn from his company. I had found them in his office, his hand resting on her back, just as he had done with Heid

lla in the South of France, surrounded by a rotating cast of women. He'd looked at me, my swollen belly, my tear-streaked face, with utter

ace to sit beside me at galas. You're not meant to follow me around like a desperate puppy." He'd even ordered me to kneel, to fetch champagn

the grand marble staircase, my body tumbling down, an agonizing blur of pain. I remembered the sharp cr

nant, and I was b

ng the terrifying phrase, "life-threatening condition." Kiyoshi never came. Not once. Not to hold my hand, not to offer a word of comfort, not even to sign the paper

oom. But I never got to hold her. Joette was there, her face grim. She snatched Luna from the nurse's arms, before I could

after my emergency surgery, barely able to sit up, I was dragged before the family altar, the rich scent of incense

on is born. And you will pray for forgiveness." She pointed to Kiyoshi's portrait, hanging prominently on the wall. "Kiyoshi is a man, Elisa. Men have needs. We do not

ar. "Look at you," he'd sneered, his gaze raking over my healing body. "Stretch marks, saggy skin. You're a mess, Elisa. Heidi has the body of a goddess. Maybe you should take lessons from her, on how to plea