I Swapped Graves With His Mistress
Language: en
I woke up in the ICU, every shallow breath feeling like a countdown to a final judgment that had already been passed. Through the haze of sedatives and the rhythmic, clinical throb of the monitors, I heard Brady’s voice. It was low, strained, and anchored by the sharp, calculating tone of his mother, Evelyn. “If you really want to marry that girl—if you want to bring a nobody into this family—then end it with Margot now,” Evelyn hissed. “Stop playing this long, exhausting game.” “She’s dead, Mother.” Brady was silent for a long beat. When he spoke again, his voice broke, a masterpiece of…