My Husband Willed Me Dead
Language: en
Eight months pregnant, I found the will tucked away in my husband’s study safe. It was all there: every share of stock, every piece of real estate, plus ten private jets and five private islands. They were all bequeathed, free and clear upon his death, to Holly Summers, the impoverished student he’d been quietly sponsoring. Rhys and I had a prenuptial agreement, of course. When we married, there was no dowry, no exchange of gifts, not even a simple ceremony. "You’re an intellectual, Liz," Rhys had said, his expression placid. "The transactional nonsense of a dowry is beneath us." Seven…