The Billionaire's Broken-Shoed Wife

ce Hur

ight air. Jason was waiting. My heart hammered against my rib

for the ticking of a grandfather clock. Jason stood by the wind

oice was low, cutting through the sile

felt. "I went for a walk. I lost track of time.

ough the dim light. "A walk? Until past

e cared about appearances. He just wanted me to admit my transgr

ords a bitter taste on my to

he commanded, his eyes flicking towards the bathroom door. "Take a shower. A lo

soiled. His property, yet taint

trying to erase not just the lingering scent of perfume and strange men, but the shame, the desperation, the

uffy white robe, Marie, the assistant,

ez," she said, her voice devoid of warmt

age, muscle mass, even a check of my nail length and hair quality. A

essful week. He'd put me on a strict liquid diet for three days, no

furiously on her clipboard. "Satisfactor

bedroom. "Florence. Come he

eets a sea of white. He was propped ag

soft. "Perhaps your allowance is a bit... restrictive

current allowance. It was a tempting offer, a golden chain g

urprising even myself. "

"Are you still angry about this evening? Don'

and grazed my cheek, then tightened on my jaw. "You are my wife. My property. You have

iss that left my lips bruised. I lay th

ried to mumble,

ing. I closed my eyes, but it didn't help. Hi

nne

edy. Even now, wrapped around me, his body

or even for pleasure. He married me to hurt Kennedy. To show her what she'd lo

any tenderness. When it was over, he roll

a vast chasm. This was my life. A holl

was gone before I w

I tracked my earnings from Elysian Fields. I didn't care ab

earnings

ment goal:

would build a new life, far from his shadow, far from the whispers and the judgment. And