heartbeat wall art

Serena Rivers spends three years in prison for a crime she didn't commit and uses every single day of it. She trains under four of the most formidable masters the underworld has ever produced and walks out as something entirely different from the woman who walked in. On her first day of freedom she corners the cold prison warden Xavier Stone against the water dungeon wall and kisses him without apology. He is her insurance policy and she knows it. Outside, the fake heiress has stolen her shares, her younger brother demands she kneel, and her former fiance has already moved on with a new bride. She tears up the rejection notice on the spot. Moments later, the Stone family motorcade arrives, the warden reveals himself as the family patriarch, and he shows up with a hundred billion in betrothal gifts and absolutely no intention of letting anyone touch her again. Together, they dismantle every person who had a hand in her three lost years.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?