
Love Money, Not MenOn the day my husband, Martin Clark, took wedding photos with his secretary, I didn't cause a massive scene like I used to.
Instead, I personally went to help them pick out the best shots.
I even had the photos framed and hung them right in the living room for every visiting guest to see.
Rumors spread like wildfire among the families of Sicilana that I was the most powerless donna, allowing any mistress or side-chick to climb over my head.
I simply smiled and said nothing.
Half a month later, Martin explained to me, "The photos were just a birthday wish of hers."
I nodded obediently. "Okay."
In my past life, the moment I saw those photos, I rushed right in front of Martin and threw a huge fit, even posting all of his explicit cheating photos onto social media.
To punish me, Martin deliberately sabotaged my father’s shipping lines, causing our family to suffer devastating losses.
Using the excuse that I was mentally ill, he sent me to a psychiatric hospital, where I was controlled with drugs and died within a few years.
Now that I have a second chance, I won't harbor a single shred of love for Martin. I only want money!
Every single time he has an affair, I will divert another one of the Clark family's shipping lines away.
Right now, there are only three lines left.
One more mistress, and the Clark family will be turned into an empty shell.