The Masked Heiress: His Dead Wife Lives

Vitiel

d a terrifying ability to control his facial expressions, and right n

shoulders. "Leo is safe," he said, his voice dripping with a gentle, sooth

ignoring the tearing sensation in my

is full of infections. It's no place for a five-year-old boy. I wanted to

so perfectly logical that it mad

voice way too loud for the quiet room. "The boy needs to

p his story made the atmosphere i

t vibrated. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen

spider crawling across my skin. "I have to step out," he whispered. "An u

ode out of the room. My paren

eady backing into the hallway. "Rest, Elena." They pr

es, forcing my erratic breathing to slow down. My brain shifted into overdrive. I closed

ed. A nurse in pink scrubs pushed a medic

opped near the foot of my bed. The nurse set a standard hospital iPad-used

, reaching up to check th

locked my gaze onto the

uscles, I began to slide my right hand down my thigh, inching toward the foot of the bed. Every cent

nhaled sharply through my nose and hooked my fingers ove

ous. She jotted something down on her clip

nket over my head and tapped the screen. The

cold smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. Before I was forced to become the ornamenta

muscle memory took over. I punched in a specific sixteen-digit engineering override code. Th

ed a secure browser, and typed in the URL for C

Number and the complex sixteen-character

fore my wedding, hiding ten million dollars in liquid assets for Leo. Growing up, I watched my mother c

ht red warning box popped up

at the English text, my hear

hallway-the guards changing

resh button, praying to a God I didn't be

red text remained, glar

broke. The metallic taste of blood flooded m

ted with this user was registered as decea