What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger novel Chapter 33

It was meant to be an ordinary afternoon at Riverside Kindergarten, picking up my three-year-old son Noah.

Instead, chaos erupted when a psycho began attacking people with a knife.

Taking multiple stab wounds to shield my Noah, and finally collapsed in a pool of my own blood.

Through blurring vision, I saw my husband, Hudson Montclair, arrive with police and a trauma team.

"Noah... how's Noah?" I managed to whisper before they wheeled me into surgery.

Hudson, his eyes glistening with tears, told me Noah had bled out before reaching the hospital.

The grief knocked me unconscious.

I'd forgotten to mention my anesthesia immunity, and as awareness slowly returned, I caught the conversation between Hudson and my doctor.

"What the hell, Mr. Montclair? The kid could've made it - we could've saved him! Why stopping us from saving him? That was your son lying there, barely three years old!"

"I never meant for him to make it. That kid was a mistake I should've fixed a long time ago. And now he dares ask for birthday presents? Clearly longing for my business."

"My son with Valeria turns eighteen next week. I promised her the company as his inheritance. No one can stand in his way."

All this time, what I thought was a blessed marriage was actually hell on earth.

Well, if this is what they want, I'll give them what they desire.

......

The doctor examined my wounded abdomen and sighed.

"Despite the severity of her injuries, we can save her uterus. She could still have baby in the future."

"Remove it. All of it. Make sure she can never conceive again."

"Right then. Start the surgery - I need to meet Valeria about young Leon's custom gift."

"Oh, and pump her full of anesthesia. Don't let Reese suffer."

As footsteps faded, I bit down hard enough to crack teeth, forcing back tears.

The attacker wasn't mentally ill.

My husband - the man I'd trusted with my life, my love, our child - had hired an assassin. All to please his precious Valeria, to protect her son's inheritance.

My precious baby Noah, murdered on his third birthday.

His crime? Simply asking his father for a birthday present.

My perfect marriage was hell on earth all along.