Tycoon's Wife Is Dead

I watched my husband dote on his pregnant mistress while the doctor told me I had three months left to live. For ten years, I lived like a ghost in his mansion—paying his bills, enduring his lies, carrying a marriage he never valued. He assumes I’ll never leave because he’s footing the cost of my mother’s cancer treatment. He’s right. I do need the money. But I refuse to spend the rest of my life watching him love another woman. The divorce papers are on the table. And this time, I’m not pleading. I’m choosing myself.