"You faked a car accident and didn't touch her for four years, all to punish her for one glass of wine she gave Edna? You're something else." That was David Walker's voice.
Damian was lounging in his executive chair, a cold smirk curling his lips.
"She made Edna miscarry. This is her lesson."
"Once Edna's son is older, I might bring him back and let her play mother. She's got the Ashford name and a free son—she should be grateful."
My entire body went numb, as though I'd been plunged into a vat of ice. Four years of consulting every doctor and praying at every temple. Four years of swallowing my humiliation, crawling on top of him, trying to coax his body to respond. All of it—punishment. For one glass of wine.
Fine. Then this arranged marriage could go straight to hell.
——
The conversation inside continued.
"Damian, your wife's been genuinely good to you. A pampered heiress, and she spent years tracking down specialists, even knelt her way up a mountain to pray for your recovery."
David paused, his tone careful. "Don't you think this is a little cruel? Making her live like a widow her whole life, growing old with no children? It's a bit..."
A derisive scoff cut him off.