The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

us that smelled like stale urine and despair. She ran her thumb over the frayed edge of the paper. One way. No return.

n. She had bought it at Walmart three days ago, along with the canvas shoes that were already pinchi

ough the grime-streaked window, she saw it. A sleek, black Mercedes idling among the rusted sedans

at least, the man who signe

th only a few distinct items buried at the bottom. She stepped off the bus, letting her shoulders slum

t next to the passenger window, looking like a lost dog waiting for a scrap. The window

e was flat. Don't touch anything w

s scuff the beige leather. She slid into the seat, making herself small, pressing her knees together. The

debt. He just merged into traffic, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror ever

or the manicured, emerald-green lawns of the Hamptons. The transition was violent. One min

e was standing on the front porch, directing a team of movers who were hauling Louis Vuit

e said. And try not to speak unl

movers long enough to look at her. Her nose wrinkled. It was a viscera

k, pointing a manicured fi

the best we could

stone. She circled Serena, like a butcher inspecting a

, probably,

ice crack just enough to sound pathetic.

n sun, holding a glass of green juice. She looked like a princess in a tower, if the tower was

p of her juice. Well, at least she's the right size. If she keep

with light, but the air was thick with tension. Serena co

stack of papers. You are going to do exactly what we tell you. You

trembled. She made sure they saw t

. She said it like she was sentenci

the breath hitch in her throat. Julian Sterling. The name was a

crazy, she stammered. I

ocked in the west wing of his daddy's mansion. And you are going to be his wife. Because if you don't, we lose everyt

e papers to her chest. Please, s

picked up a dress from a pile on the chair and threw it at Serena. It was old, the l

g room, the clinking of silverware on china echoing th

A cold sandwich and a glass of tap water. Sh

id softly. You'll

atery, grateful smi

m, closing the door behind her to block out t

ked shut, the trembling

. Her eyes, which had been wide and fearful, narrowe

ovement, she pried up the inner sole. Beneath the cheap foam w

her pocket-the one Frank had looked at

A single line of code scrolled

at

flew acros

targets are hostile but incom

hit

ayla screaming about a broken n

and placed it back in her shoe. She picked up the

ing in the distance. They thought they were sending a lamb to the s