Hidden Scientist, Betrayed Wife's Revenge

ess, pretending to be a simple graduate student. All to secret

he whispered another

his ex-girlfriend and, hor

as she attacked me, causing a fall that made m

ccused me of faking the pregnancy, an

tity for saw me as nothing more than a convenient subst

e head of the Morton Institute, I'm ready to reclaim my name. At the global

pte

source of comfort, now felt like a cage. Every touch was a fresh stab of betrayal, a

rumble against my ear, pulling me closer.

an accusation, a veiled demand for performance. My brea

brittle whisper. I tried to shi

that familiar seductive edge, the one that used to make my knees weak. Now it just gra

ainted. It was a performance, and I was no longer willing to play my part. My muscles screamed in protest, a warning,

last week, in this very bed, in the dim light of dawn, he had stirred from a deep sleep, his arm still heavy a

" he'd w

ticularly affectionate, "my little scientist." Generic endearments, sweet enough, but utterly devoid of

n a cage. I' d lain there, perfectly still, listening to his even breathing, feeling the slow, agonizing crawl of ice through my

epulsed me. My jaw ached from clenching it so tight. I couldn't do this. Not

dy, I slipped out of bed. My bare feet barely made a sound on the cold marble floor. I moved lik

et. It was a relic from my pre-Graham life, a tool I thought I' d never need again. My finger

rown out my voice. The cool porcelain of the sink against my cheek offered a small

my voice raw with unshed tears. "It's Eli

he other end. Corbett, my childhood prot

immediate concern overriding any surprise. "

ugh my heart was twisting in my chest. "Not physi

bett's voice was

e name tasting like ash on

my mouth, trying to stifle a sob. The pain was still fresh, still burning. The sha

oice. "I'll make some calls. Give me an hour. Don't do

rely a whisper. I ended t

from the study, his eyes wide as he enveloped me in a sudden, t

tone laced with false concern. He picked up my phone,

edroom, his hands already unbuttoning my silk night

ck, then trailed lower. I shut my eyes, a silent plea for detachment. Every

g on his lips. "Playing hard to get tonight, are we? I like it." His movements grew rougher, mo

ightstand. Graham' s expensive tablet, l

the tablet. "Dr. Keeley Nguyen, the prodigious scientist, is set to join the highly acclaimed Stanford research i

g. Graham, too, paused, h

revolutionary theories, stated in an exclusive interview yesterday that she is 'eager

and sharp. I knew that research

breathing hitched. He pulled away from m

t whisper, laced with a longing that slic

Graham had placed back on the nightstand, buz

st confirmed. She' s his ex

image for Dr. Keeley Nguyen. Her face stared back, brilliant and compose

A younger, slightly more polished version of myself. The same dark, intelligent eyes.

ust lay there, perfectly still, my body numb, my soul screaming. Graham, entirely oblivious, fell into a re

bett. I carefully reached for it, my fingers

er I finish the pro

ure I had secretly dedicated the past three years of my life to, sacrificing my own identity, my career, my fortune, pretending

Morton Foundation. He was charismatic, charming, everything my sheltered life hadn't prepared me for. He

shed in, a hero, pulling me from the smoke and flames, coughing and holding me tight. "I though

romises of forever. It was all a lie, a performance. He hadn't seen me. He'd seen a ghost, a proxy f