The Billionaire's Regret: My Hidden Wife

felt like it was packed with cotton, a lingering side effect of whatever Vance had slipped into his drink.

scent of vanilla and rain. A woman who moved wi

hand reaching out

brushed ag

ced his

wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned to reveal her cleavage. She

is hand back as if he h

ng. Something was wrong. The math didn't add up. The woman in his memories-hazy as they w

rough with sleep and suspicio

down his arm. "Don't be like that, Eric.

nt of him. It felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. He didn't remember invitin

ght the glint of g

cklace,"

Oh, this? It fell off while we were... you

given it to her. He had never seen that necklace before in his life. But if she had it, she must have been the one

wasn't a shout. It wa

linched.

thering to cover himself, and walked toward the bathroom. He neede

n raw. She stood under the scalding spray of the shower, tryi

Stupid

e walked into the living room, where Harper was nursing a h

ed. "You disappeared. I t

lounge," Aislinn lied.

er neck, a nervous habit.

rbone, then her chest. She ran back to the bedroom, t

no, n

e?" Harper asked

whispered, her face draining

s eyes widened. "Aislinn, that thing is worth

ng onto the bed. "It must have f

back. Call the

aid sharply. "I can

hidden behind the photo of her mother, was a tiny, engraved stamp: Rose. It was her mak

turned on the TV, needing n

king

Koch building. She was wearing sunglasses and a smug smile. And ar

asped. "T

en. "Is that... did Janine

realized with a sinking feeling

her slowly. "Why was your

er face in her h

the bathroom, dressed in a sharp charcoal

said, fastening

ries about a reconciliation." Gavin paused. "Sir, about last night.

nd

AM is corrupt. It appears som

tapes to cover up the drugging. But in doing so, he had erased

be her." But the memory of the scent-rain and vanilla-wouldn't leave him. Janin

alized. We own the rights to the 'Rose' brand now. However, the ownership structure is... complex. The sel

this Rose. If she's half as talented as her portfolio suggests, s

one rang. It

ce was shaking. "The new owners a

e in, Declan

He's asking for Rose. If we don't produce someone, he's go

W. Studios as a front. Declan was the face; she was the ghost. To maintain control, she had "hired" herself as a low-lev

ning cold. "I'll be there. But