The Principessa's Art of War

Someone had replied to her message.

Ready to welcome the new heir already?

She replied with a smug smiley face.

My ears were ringing. My miscarriage wasn't an accident.

Trevor, under the guise of consolidating territory, had orchestrated the attack himself.

The cruelest joke of all was that the reason I hadn't been able to conceive again wasn't, as the family doctor had said, because my body needed time to recover.

It was because the attack was designed to leave me barren from the very beginning.

This was a declaration of war.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face. All the details I had deliberately ignored came rushing back to me.

The occasional scent of a strange perfume on him. The hushed phone calls on the balcony late at night.

The glass of water he so attentively handed me the night before my miscarriage.

How could I have been so foolish? I was so tired that even hating him felt meaningless.

I scrubbed the tears from my face.

I would make them both pay.

As my thoughts churned, an encrypted number called.

I took a deep breath and answered.

"Who is this?"

A mocking female voice came through the phone. My arch-nemesis, the head of the Irish mob, Isolde Keane.

"Well, well, look who it is. You're still alive! I thought you were dead. Trevor Thorne is in quite a hurry to introduce his next lady of the house."

After years as rivals, I knew she was only calling to gloat.

I ignored her taunt and asked, "What did you see?"

She scoffed. "So you're not a complete idiot. There's a joint peace summit here. And Trevor Thorne is busy introducing his new partner to everyone."

She added, "I just sent you the security access code."

I glanced at the address. It was only an hour's drive from me. How dare they be so blatant, right under my nose?

I let out a cold laugh. New partner?

The absolute nerve. How could his legal wife possibly miss such a party?

I headed straight for the address. As soon as I got in the car, a message from Trevor arrived.

Darling, are you not home? I happened to check the gallery's surveillance to see the new collection and didn't see you.

All his recent concern for my health and state of mind... it wasn't for my well-being, but to ensure I wouldn't derail his little production.

I replied with a cold smile and a photo.