The Unwanted Wife And Her Billionaire Protector

open the bottom drawer of the walk‑in closet-a space usually reserved for off‑s

he lifted it out. The screen lit up, demanding a passcode. Sh

itter thought she couldn't suppress-she typed in the b

unlocked

r fingers, suddenly numb, tapped on the mail icon.

ze 34C; a matching thong. The total was over three hundre

eypad at the front door mad

the iPad back into the drawer, burying it unde

nto the living room just as Dallas was shr

at had once made her feel safe. He stepped forward, his eyes fu

e her stomach churn. She forced a smile, a brittle cur

ay?" sh

ransferring me to some hotshot new specialist, a Kensington. Guy's supposed to be untouchable, but we'll see." He was talkin

The sharp sting was the only thing keeping her gr

ear that," she

white leather sofa. A faint, sweet scent wafted from it. It wasn't h

he hallway to the master bathroom. A mo

, trembling slightly, slipped into the inner pocket of hi

l in Tribeca. The date stamped on it was from last week-the thr

to grip the arm of the sofa to stay upright. The sh

table, vibrated. The screen lit u

nly a second before

a?" a hushed fe

s is

throw me away, but he forgot I manage the conference room recordings. You need to know something." The woman's words were rushed, lac

s not possible," she whispered. "H

ne. "A diagnosis he paid for. Listen. I pull

she'd never heard before. "I can't stand touching her. Just a few more months, Ava. On

n her face, hot and silent. The world-her perfect, c

of the sho

ore terrifying than the

. She wiped her eyes frantically with the back

k to the master bedroom, grabbed a pile of clean laundry from

his wet hair with another. He came up behind her, wrappin

?" he murmured a

at their reflection in the floor‑to‑ceiling windows-at the man holding her. A

sharp, and utterly clear. The s