My Don Husband Drugged Me to Kill Our Baby

I lay on the delivery bed in the private clinic, each contraction threatening to rip my body apart.

My husband, Dante Corsetti, held my hand, his eyes so tender they could melt.

"Just a little longer, Valentina. We're about to meet our baby."

I was drenched in sweat from the pain, but I still managed to squeeze out a smile for him.

Then the nurse walked in carrying a syringe. I assumed it was the epidural.

But Dante suddenly let go of my hand and stepped back.

The instant the needle pierced my skin, I heard him give the order: "Eleanora wants her baby born first.