Breaking The Script: My Billionaire Husband

cked out the noise of the Los Angeles traffic. The only sound was the lo

ting directly at the back seat. It streamed their every

sting against the leather headrest, his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell

She stared out the tinted win

from his body across the center console. The internet was watching them with a micr

made her hyper-aware of

of the narrative, to prove to the audience-and to herself-that

e empty space and poked his arm. Her finger pressed

s eyes sna

t move his head. He just stared at her, his brow fu

he let a slow, cunning sm

said, her voice drippi

not answer.

as," she said, leaning slightly closer. "It was a great performance. Very convincing. But

quietly watching them sit in s

s asking hi

shameless,

aid, q

w tightened. He looked at her as if she were a pa

ue. He did not

ket of his suit jacket and pul

uickly across the screen. He did not look at her. He d

rp, cheerful ding ech

a's phone, which wa

screen lit up with

screen: A $5,000 credit has been applied

sunglasses. She stared at the numbers. Five thousand

of the bright screen on her sunglasses. T

ID HE JUST S

DOLLARS FOR O

is house for the rest of his

up at Augustine. He was putting his phone ba

She wanted to prove that his money meant nothing t

e screen around, holding it up so the

y husband is feeling so incredibly generous today, I

rectly into t

nt. I am going to randomly select ten people from the chat right now. We are splitti

et complet

deo feed stuttered. Millions of commen

ME

G AWAY HIS MO

erly Hills! We sta

witter platform. Her public approval rating, which had been

triumph. She had taken his arrogant display of wealt

at Augustine, expecting to

a brilliant, v

the window. His face was t

him, she saw the corn

ement. A tiny, almost in

s smi

ing, deeply amused smirk. It was the look of a pr

ltered. A cold drop of unease

s he s