The Fixer's Secret: Taming My Husband

s. She stood under the awning of The Obsidian, a private club that smelled of old money and exclusion even from the outside. Water dripped from the end of her

that made her stomach clench. She didn't need to look at the scre

out of her pocket

device to her ear, staring blankly at the doorm

c of the rain. It was a voice that sounded like tearin

eady. It took every ounce of her years of pra

nd the fertility specialist both agree. The window is closi

ne wen

r eyes, usually wide and accommodating, narrowed into slits of cold, hard calculation. She looked less like a wife and more like a predator a

all of muscle in a suit that cost more than mo

s only

terling, Vi

s more of a sneer. Mr. Sterling is already inside. He has a guest. A

ir between them. The wife was the i

manager. She simply reached into her purse and pulled out a black tit

te black surface to catch the ambient light. It wasn't a ke

"I believe the Centurion concierge service guarantees immediate access to partner venues regardless of cap

ripping off her chin, but her expression held the absolute, unshakeable conf

," he mumbled, stepping aside and press

oors clicke

ed him a tight

k you

rat. Her hair was plastered to her skull. Her mascara was likely smudged. But she practiced her smile. It was a specific smile. The one sh

evator

ng of crystal glasses. The low, guttural laughter of men who

nated mostly by the green glow of the poker tables and the amber light

It didn't taper off p

ss shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms tha

ooke

ed on her, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. There wa

him sa

as backless, sleeveless, and likely cost more than Victoria's first car. She was le

Elena lifted the gra

it, but he didn't stop her. He just kep

ble whistled. A l

. A hot, molten rage that she had been swallowing for three years. She forced

a squishing sound on the marble border

ed her hand back, dropping the grap

, sugary. I didn't see you there. Julian w

s chair. She could smell Elena's perfum

nd on the back

ian's voice was a l

down, bringing her face close t

r down to Elena's bare arm. Her fi

sque

cidentally-on-purpose pressed directly onto the ulnar nerve-the fu

nd knocking her champagne flute over. The crys

g with faux concern as she released the arm.

r, her wet hair bru

hem could hear it. It was devoid of the warmth she usually faked. It was the voice of the woman who k

smoothed her wet coat a

ce was loud enough for the table to h

hey scattered across the felt. A pair of

tood

cal. He reached out and grabbed her chin, his fingers digging i

power? he hissed. You think you can walk in her

d. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a

sed her face with a shove that

He picked up his g

o the dealer. And get securit

itated, lookin

the glass dow

p again, nervous at first, then louder. They were laughing at

nto her ankles. She felt the eyes of every

didn't

and touched her phone. She

ay games, Juli

, but she didn't walk toward the