Mr. Billionaire Wants His Dying Wife Back

A FRAGILE HOPEAVA"It's the 7th year of marriage with Drake, but he would rather spill away his cum than have me pregnant.” I ran my hands over my face in frustration, my hands trembling as I looked at my reflection in the white walls of the hospital.For the past three weeks, I had been noticing symptoms… symptoms that I couldn’t ignore any longer, no matter how hard I tried… and my husband, Drake Blackwood, did not care about my wellbeing, even if I drew my last breath in front of him.I could still hear Drake’s voice from that morning, sharp and laced with that familiar irritation.“Ava, just take your pills, please. I can’t afford any complications.”“What complications, Drake?”“Nothing.”His dismissive tone echoed in my mind.It was the soundtrack of our marriage, clearly indicating the yearning that had hollowed me out for years.For seven years, I had longed for a child. Every month, my hope turned to ash when he forced those pills on me, until I had finally grown too weary t

IT’S TIME.AVA“...the Sinclair family has been pushing for the legitimacy of the Blackwood heir.”I flung my phone across the room, the device skittering against the wood.I pulled my legs tight against my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible.Those last two words dug a hole into my heart. My dream was finally coming true, but it had twisted into a terrible nightmare.My mind drifted, to the image of a toddler running through these halls—a child I would never be allowed to call my own.A tear rolled down my cheek, the sting of neglect burning deeper than any physical wound.A knock on the door jolted me back to the present. I instinctively wiped the liquid from my face.“Come in,” I managed, straightening my posture and clearing my throat.The door creaked open. “You called for me, ma’am,” a low, firm voice said.A small smile touched my lips. “I’ll be down in a minute.”The door shut, and the silence consumed me again.I stood up and walked to the mirror, staring at a