Once, All My Looks Suited You
Language: en
After our daughter died, I removed every part of myself that my husband—head of a global arms syndicate—had despised. I stopped questioning his whereabouts. When he stayed out all night, I slept soundly. When I was injured in an explosion, the surgeon told me to notify my family. I simply said, “I have no family.” A nurse recognized me. “You’re Mrs. Ivanov, aren’t you? Roman is right next door. Should I tell him you’re here?” I shook my head softly. No. Half an hour later, Roman arrived anyway. His sharp features were tense, his presence heavy with hostility, like gunpowder smoke. His…