The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret

se. Jonna Martin sat perfectly still on the beige sectional, her spine pressed against the firm cushions, listening to the silence th

n. Twelve m

t reach for it. Instead, she swiped the notification away and opened her sec

r the direct message

rpet-a generic, hotel-grade floral pattern-but the focal point was unmistakable. A pai

had picked them out for hi

_S" was brief: He's not comin

old, clinical calculation that washed over her, numbing her extremities. She t

s slid open with a soft c

untdown. She didn't knock; Harringtons didn't knock on doors they owned. Behind her, two maid

eeting. She didn't wait for a response. She gestured sharply to the maids. "Put the soup

les in her silk lounge pants. "Aunt

She walked to the dining table, her diamond ring-a rock the size of a quail egg-tapping against

to the falsified data she'd submitted to the family's physician last week, a careful fabrication d

your father's pathetic little debts, is to secure the fourth generation. The Trust is getting impatient,

m Serena. A selfie this time, half a face, a bare shoulder, a

ural failure. The fear that usually kept her docile evaporated, repla

emble, just enough to catch the light. She bro

hough her voice wavered slightly

lip to quiver. "It's not me, Aunt V.

er, creating an intimate vacuum

oze. "What

ils, feigning deep embarrassment. "The pressure from

widened. "Physic

ue. "Severe. And... ED. The doctors say it's psychological, but..."

to her throat, clutching her pearls. The concept of a Harr

ing up with wide, pleading eyes. "Especially not hi

s broadcasting station. Telling her a secret was

ue form of pity. "Oh, my dear. I had no idea." She coughed, looking around the room as i

yone," Jonna begged,

Hermès bag, suddenly eager to leave. "I have a lunch appo

er heels clicking faster now, fuele

oors

y Manhattan skyline. She pulled out her phone and blocked Serena's number. Then

r had