Husband Asked Me To Share Him With His Sisters-in-Law

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law.

The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor.

Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency.

But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands.

I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped.

I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him.

I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room.

After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground.

My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized.

I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent.

I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along.

His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage.

Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day.

The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?"

Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother."

This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

"Anna, how can you just sit there?"

Selena steadied herself against the table's edge and pushed to her feet. The wine glass had shattered on the marble floor, sending shards skidding in every direction. One had caught her hand, leaving a thin cut across the back, blood trailing down her pale wrist and dripping onto the agreement spread out below her.

Last time, I'd been shaking with rage. I'd slapped Selena across the face right there on the spot.

This time, I just set down my cup, pulled a napkin off the table, and held it out to her.

"Selena, you've hurt your hand. Let me have someone drive you to the hospital."

Selena went still. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. Across the room, Vivian froze where she stood, the agreement crumpling in her