Blurb：
When celebrated nutritionist Ramona Paxton discovers husband Dashiell Kendrick has been poisoning her smoothies with experimental supplement AeternaBloom, her world shatters. Secretary Lilith Beck's pregnancy announcement with Dashiell's heir unveils a web of betrayal reaching Cypress Spire Medical Center where Ramona's brother Sam lies comatose. Left for dead after a staged "cosmetic accident", Ramona resurfaces through the intervention of Graves Industries CEO Atticus Graves - her former classmate hiding a decade-long secret affection.
Now reborn with surgical precision and Atticus' vast resources, the woman the world thinks died returns to dismantle the Kendrick empire. From exposing AeternaBloom's hormonal sabotage to unraveling Margo Kendrick's high-society manipulations, Ramona weaponizes her nutritional expertise against those who stole her pregnancies and framed her as a "barren whore". But as she closes in on Dashiell and Lilith's twisted feng shui baby plans, even Atticus questions how far this phoenix will rise from the ashes of betrayal.
Content：
§PROLOGUEThe lie had a taste.
It tasted like organic kale, ripe mango, and the faintest hint of vanilla from the ridiculously expensive protein powder Dashiell insisted on.
It tasted like health.
But through the crack of the master bedroom door, slightly ajar, I finally learned its real name.
“She’s swallowing it down like a good little pig,” my husband’s voice purred, low and intimate.
A woman’s giggle, light and sharp as shattered glass, followed. Lilith. His secretary.
“Are you sure this AeternaBloom stuff is still working, Dash? She seems less… bloated this week.”
“Patience, my little spark,” Dashiell soothed. “The custom hormonal blend is subtle. It’s not just about making her fat. It’s about keeping her system too chaotic to hold a pregnancy. The weight gain is just the… aesthetic bonus. It keeps her docile. Too ashamed to go out.”
My hand, holding a tray with their afternoon coffee, began to tremble.
The hand-painted ceramic mugs rattled against the silver tray, a tiny earthquake announcing my presence.
“That bitch, advising you to diet, causing your hypoglycemia… I’m just helping her understand what poor nutrition *really* looks like,” he continued, his voice dripping with false righteousness. “Now she’s a blimp. Who’s the expert now?”
“And soon, she’ll be gone,” Lilith cooed. “Our baby will need this room. The feng shui is better.”
The tray slipped.
It crashed onto the marble floor with a sound that echoed the shattering of my entire world.
Three years.
Seven miscarriages.
Nearly one hundred pounds of unexplained weight.
It wasn't my broken body.
It was his perfect poison.
§01
The silence that followed the crash was heavier than the hundred pounds I carried on my frame.
I stood frozen in the hallway, the scent of spilled Colombian coffee mingling with the bitter aroma of betrayal.
The bedroom door flew open.
Dashiell stood there, his tailored Tom Ford suit unrumpled, his expression a mask of husbandly concern.
Only his eyes, for a split second, were cold as a morgue slab.
“Ramona? Darling, are you alright?”
He rushed to my side, ignoring the mess, his large hand gently touching my hair.
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