When I opened my eyes on the operating table at Boston General, I'd somehow been sucked into that trashy novel—becoming Emily, the doormat everyone walked all over!
My snake of a husband Michael was shoving divorce papers in my face, demanding I "step aside." His mistress Sarah hung on his arm with that smug smile, while my monster-in-law joined their chorus, trying to steal my son Noah away.

But the most vile part? The "insulin" they were injecting into Noah wasn't insulin at all—it was an unapproved experimental drug that could kill him!

I'm a goddamn cardiac surgeon who's saved countless lives. No way in hell am I letting these parasites harm my child. I tore up those divorce papers and removed that poison needle.

Anyone who dares hurt Noah? I'll make damn sure they rot in prison for the rest of their miserable lives.

I’m Not Emily: Your Ass Is Toast!

Caroline
The FBI convoy raced through the streets, sirens tearing through the afternoon air. I sat in the passenger seat, hands clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.
"How much longer to the airport?" My voice shook with terror.
Agent Carter glanced at the GPS: "Fifteen minutes! But their ...

Chapter 7