My Husband's Perfect Deception

tical genius who put my father on a path to the Whi

meticulousl

car crash? She wasn't dead. I found her living in a sec

their secret life. My en

my stepmother, and Christian, all p

a liability," my father said. "We dis

o destroy me to protect it. The family I thought was my

ther's approval died right there. She

life onto an encrypted flash

ing to be the one

pte

rs, my life

d my estranged father, Senator Franklin Vance, from the br

open arms. My powerful father praised my talent. My charming

f, after a lonely childhood raised abroad b

meticulously

Hobbs, had died in a tragic accident. A car crash. It was a clean b

But her death was presented as a tragedy that bonded us. It was the event that allowed Chr

h was the foundat

uilt on a lie is just sand, wa

large, recurring payments to a "Wellness Center" caught my eye. They were flagged under miscellaneou

ught it was a mistake. The address led to a private, unmarke

. The gate was for "The Serenity Meadow Retreat." I' d never hear

w didn't

se. A woman with familiar blonde hai

ght. It was I

ad. She was ve

his arms. The boy squealed and wrapped his arms around Christian' s neck. Isabelle came u

was like watching a movie with act

le, the one he gave me this morning. That

nd, even from a distance, I could see the shape

as a cold,

to poison. I crouched behind a thicket of r

. I watched them. Watched them l

little boy yelled, r

dd

he silent, screaming

him a glass of what looked like lemonade. She kissed Christian, a lo

. This was a life.

it was all a stage. And I was the lead act

ss. It was a holding company. A front

y pocket. A text fro

ductive day, dear. Your f

so sharp it made

. Gwyn, with her perfectly curated social life. T

mb as I typed a me

like Isabelle Hobbs near the old mari

ent

ly. It was Christian. His na

then answered, forcing my v

y,

you?" His voice wa

ing in spreadsheets," I lie

easing slightly from his voice.

ed like her. You know how it is. Long day. My eyes ar

his relief palpable. "You sound

," I promise

o," he said,

phone, at his name. The man I loved didn't exi

ic girl who craved her father's appro

ced by a cold

n anchor. It was a cage. And I wa