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My Death, His Ultimate Downfall Novel Cover

My Death, His Ultimate Downfall

For a decade, I was the perfect wife to tech mogul Carson Jarvis. I cleaned up every scandal and endured every affair, trapped by my father's "poison pill" inheritance clause that would leave me with nothing if I divorced him. His latest mistress was pregnant, but that wasn't what finally broke me. It was when he shut down our mansion's power grid for their tryst-and turned off my grandmother's life support. He murdered her. At a charity auction days later, he paraded his new love while she announced her pregnancy. When I confronted her for stealing my money, Carson watched as his guards broke my arm, leaving me bleeding on the floor while he comforted her. He thought I was his unbreakable wife, a possession with nowhere else to go. He expected me to clean up this mess, just like all the others. He was wrong. As I watched him shield her during the chaos of an explosion I secretly arranged, I knew my old life was over. Tonight, the world would learn of my death. And with it, Carson Jarvis would lose everything.
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Chapter 3

Amelie POV:

The auction continued, each item a blur of opulence and indifference. I raised my paddle half-heartedly for a few pieces of art, just to keep up appearances. Karin, however, seemed to enjoy the sport of it. Every time I bid, she would immediately outbid me, her sweet smile never faltering. I stopped bidding entirely, letting a numb silence define my presence. Carson, of course, indulged her every whim, throwing money around like confetti, his eyes still shining with the news of his impending fatherhood.

Then, the final piece of the night was wheeled onto the stage. A small, tarnished silver locket, nestled on a velvet cushion.

My breath hitched. My face went cold, then hot, then utterly bloodless. It was Mama's locket. The one she' d lost years ago, the one I' d been searching for, praying for. The one that held the only picture of her and me together.

The auctioneer' s voice droned, "Starting bid, five hundred dollars." Five hundred dollars for my mother's last tangible memory. It felt like a punch to the gut.

Without thinking, I shot up from my seat, my paddle held high. "Five hundred thousand!" My voice, sharp and clear, cut through the hushed hall.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Carson, momentarily startled, turned to me. Karin, however, merely giggled.

"Oh, Mrs. Jarvis," she purred, her paddle raised. "Six hundred thousand." She turned to me, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. "Is this what Carson gives you to play with, Mrs. Jarvis? Little trinkets?" She then snuggled into Carson' s side, feigning a shiver. "Carson, darling, Mrs. Jarvis looks so fierce. I'm scared." She looked back at me, her smile hardening. "Carson bought me a beautiful diamond necklace today. A reward for carrying his heir. This old thing? It looks like a teething toy for the baby. But if you want it, go ahead. I'll let you have this one. I have your husband, after all."

I ignored her, my eyes fixed on the locket, my heart hammering against my ribs. "One million dollars," I stated, my voice shaking with a fury I hadn't felt in years.

"Amelie, that's enough," Carson' s voice cut in, sharp and dismissive. He reached for my arm. "It's just an old locket. I'll buy you a new one. A better one. Ten better ones."

I ripped my arm away, my gaze burning into his. "It's my mother's! It' s all I have left of her!" My voice cracked, raw with a pain I had kept buried for so long. "Please, Carson. Just let me have this. After everything. After what you' ve put me through. After my grandmother..." My voice trailed off, a silent plea.

He just stared at me, his face unreadable. That cold, calculating look I knew so well.

"Two million dollars!" I practically screamed, my paddle trembling in my hand. It was every cent I had left in my private accounts, money I had saved over years, quietly siphoning it away for my escape. This was it. Everything.

The auctioneer looked from me to Carson, then back. "Two million, going once..."

My chest tightened, a vise grip of dread squeezing the air from my lungs. I had nothing left.

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