He Forced the Abortion. I’ll Force His Downfall

My husband, Stefano Worthington forced me into an abortion.

I still hear his voice in my skull: “Fix it. Vexanna hasn’t replied in three days because of your pregnancy.”

One shove. One fell down the stairs. I woke up with a broken leg, a dead baby, and divorce papers on my blanket.

He didn’t even look at me when he said and gave me the divorce paper, “Sign it. And don’t ask for painkillers. You need to feel everything.”

They sent me back to our villa like I was some broken package. Except it wasn’t my home anymore.

His mistress; Vexanna, was sleeping in my bed, eating breakfast in my chair, and wearing my jewelry like trophies. And Stefano? He just sat there watching her humiliate me like it was entertainment.

The real breaking point came when the hospital called and said my parents were burning alive in a house fire. I tried to leave. I begged him.

He didn’t believe me.

He just leaned back, pulled Vexanna close, and said, “If you want to go… kneel for her. Beg.”

So that night, I called my brother.

“Brother, help me fake my death.”