The Billionaire's Broken-Shoed Wife
ce Hur
p. My breath hitched. My mind reeled, trying t
ged, my voice
d in their sterile white coats, stood rigidly behind him, their faces impa
You weren't. I know you lied. Now, I want to know where you were, and who you wer
ind scrambling for a plausible excuse. "I needed to clear my
e that you, my wife, were simply 'walking'?" His eyes narrowed. "I saw the way you look
whisper. "I asked you to strip. Now." His eyes were li
l staff, the smirk on Marie's face, they were all witnesses to my public
body, my own dignity. The fabric slid down, pooling around my feet. Then my slip, my underwear. I stood
ves against my skin. Shame, hot and prickly, burned through me. I was a specime
ho saw. The humiliation was absolute. I was a broken thing, standing
aced man, stepped forward with a p
's smirk vanished, replace
e, then pulled my dress from the ground. He draped it over m
l of you. Leave. Now." He gestured to the medical team and Marie. "And you," he sai
ght. "Yes, Jason." My
hen turned and strode into t
anger, the shame, the profound sense of violati
empty house, my phone bu
urley getting frisked by doctors ou
STDs after her little 'walk.
neak out for a job. Jason pro
r Jason gave her another thousand d
had sent that money right after I'd ended the call. He had kno
screen going black, just
my sanctuary of solitude
earnings
ment goal:
beacon in the suffocating dark
estless sleep, my dreams filled with fleeting
across my waist, his face buried in my hair. His touch was possessive, demanding, even i
ze of a half-forgotten dream. A name that brought a fleeting w
arm tightened around
ice was sharp, cutting
rrified. "No one," I lied, my voice trembling. "
were cold and hard. "A dream? A character? You call out another man's
ers digging into my flesh.
rs welling in my eyes. "It was just a d
bed. "Fine. Have your secrets." His voice was laced with di
in. His body pressed against mine, demanding, forceful. The act was quick, brutal, a raw assertion of power.
nt, his breathing heavy. Then, he whisper