ness, and it took me a mome

with the foul stench of sweat and blood. I wa

m the unbearable present. It pull

ed

way they always did when he looked at me. He was the charming, successful busine

er met, Daria Pratt," he had whispered on our wedding

as the most precious thing in the world, be the

n marketing was taking off, and his business empire was expanding. We had a bea

donnell came i

a fragile artist recovering from a "nervous breakdown." Kaed

aria," he'd said. "She'

y was interrupted by a frantic call from Clemmie, claiming she was having a panic attack. Kaeden rush

his priority. I

ar, watching him across the room as he fussed over Clemmie, making sure her champagne glas

tant neglect, the feeling of being r

ng you, Kaeden. C

noid, Daria. She's

t the door, pulling me into his arms. He bought me an obscenel

t won't happen again. Yo

e I desperately wanted to belie

became less frequent. Kaeden was home for dinner more

nd out I w

He touched my growing belly with reverence, talked about names, and planned

ncement on my social media-a picture of a pair of tiny baby shoe

post was my

had seen my post and it had sent her into a deep depressio

ad raged, his eyes wild. "You know how fragile

him. He was completely under her spell. He

en he broug

ack to the horrifying present. The door wa

?" It was Kaeden's voice, la

with poison. "Don't worry, darling. She's

pa

nspiratorial whisper. "We need her alive. For now. Dr.