My Fake Bankrupt Husband Is A Tycoon

shattered storefront. Four officers, body ca

ton. "Philadelphia Police! Everyone freeze

helves and immediately drop to their knee

sforms instantly. She forces tears into

ils, grabbing Gale's uniform sleeve. "My d

disgust. His sharp eyes scan the devastation of the flower shop. He take

s eyes l

lents. Blood is streaming down the back of my h

is officers to secure Doris and the men. He

ed an ambulance?"

s from the counter and press it hard against

y. "I want to press charges. Destruction

's a family dispute! I'm her mother! I

oldly. "And she is not my f

I pull out the crumpled marriage l

t, a routine procedure. His eyes

ops bre

Ethan Patterson. He stares at the signatur

same dorm room as that signature for four years at Columbia Universi

He takes in my bloodstained sweater, my pale

n America married

eutral. He hands the paper back to me with a newfou

the shop, stepping behind the patrol c

hone and dials a number that onl

on the second

mind?" Gale hisses, k

Ethan frowns. "What are yo

r shop in Old City. Your new little wife is bleeding from the hand,

y silence on the ot

a leather portfolio

n says. His voi

up. He walks back into the shop. "Cuf

f onto the floor, kicking and screaming like a

the sound of tires grinding against

k Maybach scree

e air around him seems to drop ten degrees. H

ride past the police tape, the wall I've built

ce. He ignores Doris.

h the paper towels on my hand. The muscle in his