His Wedding Began with My Death

I was deaf for five years. For the man who swore he’d love me forever, I walked into surgery alone and risked my life—just to hear his voice again. But the first thing I heard wasn’t wedding bells. It was him moaning with his assistant. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply prepared a wedding gift he’d never forget: My “dead body,” footage of his affair, and a funeral livestreamed worldwide to expose him. While the whole world mourned my “suicide,” I had already risen again in the sunlight—as the heiress to the Hopkins family. Tom, how does a deaf woman’s revenge sound? Deafening enough?