Rising From Ashes: My Masked Runway Comeback

I sat in the emergency room corridor, pressing a soaked bandage against my heavily bleeding arm. I had texted my husband of three years, billionaire Efford Thornton, begging him to come.

He did come, but he walked right past me as if I were a piece of furniture. When the doctor finally brought the last bag of O-negative blood in the city to save my life, Efford's assistant intercepted it.

Efford coldly ordered the blood to be sent to the VIP wing for Aletha Chase.

"Mrs. Chase is pregnant with the Thornton heir," he declared flatly. "The priority is non-negotiable."