Carlota was secretly carrying the child of Donavan Raymond, the most powerful man in New York. To escape his dangerous obsession and save her comatose brother, she entered a fake marriage with a disabled heir. But on her wedding day, her stepsister Harper discovered the secret ultrasound. Realizing the baby belonged to her fiancé Donavan, Harper brutally shoved Carlota into a marble table, murdering the seven-month-old unborn child. Harper and her mother bribed the doctor to lie to Donavan, claiming the dead baby was only five months old. Believing Carlota had cheated, Donavan mocked her broken, bleeding state and abandoned her in the hospital. Her stepmother then forced her to sign divorce papers by threatening to pull the plug on her brother's ventilator. They locked Carlota away, planning to sell her to human traffickers and finally murder her brother. Escaping into the freezing rain, Carlota followed them to a hidden graveyard and uncovered a terrifying, decades-old secret. Her stepmother and stepsister weren't just greedy gold-diggers. They were the family of a disgraced enemy, infiltrating her home for years to systematically poison her real mother and destroy her bloodline out of pure revenge. Kneeling in the mud, Carlota's fear vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating emptiness. She picked up her phone and faked a desperate, terrified sob. "Mom? Please, come get me. I'll do whatever you want." She hung up the phone, a chilling smile spreading across her face as she prepared to crawl back to Donavan and use his absolute power to slaughter them all.
Carlota Hall gripped the heavy satin fabric of her bridesmaid dress, her knuckles turning white. She walked fast down the dimly lit corridor of the Manhattan Plaza Hotel. The heavy bass from the engagement party in the main ballroom thumped against the walls, vibrating through the soles of her heels.
She needed to get away from the crowd. She needed air.
Suddenly, a violent wave of nausea hit her stomach. Carlota stopped dead in her tracks. She slapped her hand over her mouth, her chest heaving. She leaned her shoulder against the expensive silk wallpaper, bending forward as her stomach cramped painfully. She dry-heaved, her throat burning with stomach acid.
In the shadows of a marble Roman pillar at the end of the hall, Donavan Raymond stood perfectly still.
The glowing cherry of his cigar illuminated the sharp, cold lines of his jaw. He watched her shaking back, his eyes narrowing.
Carlota dug frantically into her small designer clutch. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a mint and shoved it into her mouth. The sharp peppermint flavor coated her tongue, barely suppressing the sickness rising in her throat. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, ragged breath.
A heavy thud echoed on the thick wool carpet.
Donavan's custom leather shoes made a muffled, deliberate sound. Step by step, he was closing the distance.
Carlota's eyes snapped open. The sound of his footsteps sent a jolt of pure panic straight to her heart. She straightened up instantly. She turned her body, her eyes darting toward the green exit sign over the stairwell.
She took one step.
Donavan lunged forward. His large, hot hand clamped down hard around her thin wrist.
The force of his grip jerked her backward. Carlota lost her balance. Her back slammed hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs.
Before she could slide away, Donavan raised his arm and planted his hand flat against the wall right next to her ear. His massive frame boxed her in completely. There was nowhere to run.
The heavy scent of expensive tobacco mixed with his dark, masculine cologne filled the narrow space. It suffocated her. Carlota stopped breathing. Her chest froze.
Donavan's gaze dropped. His eyes, sharp as a scalpel, dragged over the waistline of her dress. She had paid a tailor extra to let out the seams just enough to hide the slight, undeniable bump of her stomach.
"What were you gagging over out here?" Donavan asked.
His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated against her skin.
Carlota forced her chin up. She looked away from his piercing stare, fixing her eyes on his silk tie.
"I drank too much champagne," she lied, her voice shaking. "My stomach is upset."
Donavan let out a harsh, humorless laugh. He reached out and grabbed her chin, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He forced her head turn, making her look directly into his dark eyes.
"You haven't touched a single drop of alcohol all night," he stated flatly.
Carlota's breath hitched.
"And," Donavan continued, his voice dropping an octave, "I saw you walking out of the private OBGYN clinic on Park Avenue last week."
Carlota's pupils dilated in sheer terror. The federal HIPAA privacy laws in the United States strictly prevented doctors from releasing patient information to anyone. He couldn't have seen her medical records. He was guessing. He had to be guessing.
She brought both her hands up, grabbing his thick wrist. She dug her nails into his skin, trying to pry his iron grip off her face.
Donavan didn't flinch. He didn't move an inch. His eyes darkened with a violent storm of anger.
"Look at me and tell me the truth," Donavan demanded, his jaw ticking. "Is the bastard in your stomach mine?"
The memory of that chaotic night seven months ago crashed into her brain. The heat, the ripping of clothes, the desperate gasps in the dark. Carlota's eyes instantly filled with hot tears.
She bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted copper blood.
"No," Carlota said, her voice cracking but resolute. "It was an accident. It has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Donavan's fingers tightened on her jaw until it bruised. The veins in his neck bulged. The sheer rage of being lied to, the intense, possessive jealousy, radiated off him like heat from an oven.
The sharp clicking of high heels echoed from the other end of the corridor.
"Donavan?"
Harper Cantu's sweet, high-pitched voice rang out. She turned the corner, wearing a custom-made, diamond-encrusted engagement gown.
Carlota felt Donavan's grip loosen for a fraction of a second. She used every ounce of strength in her body and shoved both her hands hard against his solid chest.
Donavan didn't step back. Instead, his arm shot out. He wrapped his hand around the small of her back and yanked her flush against his hard body.
Harper stopped walking. The fake, sweet smile on her face completely froze. Her eyes locked onto their intimately close bodies. Pure, venomous hatred flashed in her eyes.
Harper quickly recovered. She walked toward them, forcing her lips to curve upward.
"What are you two doing out here?" Harper asked, her voice tight.
Carlota pushed against Donavan's chest again, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"I almost slipped on the carpet," Carlota lied quickly, her voice breathless. "My future brother-in-law was just catching me."
Donavan didn't even look at Carlota. He turned his head slowly and stared blankly at Harper.
"The engagement ceremony is postponed," Donavan announced coldly.
Harper's eyes widened in horror. Her perfectly manicured nails dug so deeply into her palms that the skin broke.
"Donavan, wait, what are you saying-"
Donavan ignored her completely. He grabbed Carlota by the upper arm. His grip was brutal. He dragged her away from the wall, pulling her toward the heavy mahogany doors of the VIP lounge a few feet away.
"Let me go!" Carlota gasped, stumbling over her heels as he pulled her.
Donavan kicked the VIP lounge door open, dragging her inside into the dimly lit gloom. The faint amber light from the hallway barely pierced the shadows of the room.
The Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Vengeful Return
Isis Beutler
Romance
Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
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Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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