The Exiled Wife's Secret Double Life

vangelina opened her weathered suitcase, pulling out a simple cotton t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She had no intention of unpacking ful

in the en-suite bathroom when a soft, d

her cheek. She glanced at the clock on the

side, walked over, and

was wearing a plunging, wine-red silk nightgown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her hair was a

feigned, exaggerated modesty, her lips curving int

her arms over her chest. She let her gaze sweep over Chay

ing with dry sarcasm. "Did you wander all the way across the estat

n't misunderstand, sister. It's just... Douglass was so demanding tonight. He wouldn't let me rest. I came out to the kitchen to get a glass of wat

ghtly, revealing several faint red marks along her collarbone. She waited, her eyes

eaned in closer, her eyes locking onto the red marks on

finger, pointing directly at th

marked, her tone conversational. "Because with a chest that flat, whe

chest, her carefully constructed facade crumbling into shrill, ug

I don't know the man I was married to? When he's drunk, he passes out. He doesn't perform. As for the col

Chaya dropped all pretenses. Her face contorted w

his bed countless times over the last three years! He belongs to

d by a razor-sharp chill that made the air in the corridor f

ery syllable hitting like a hammer. "You finally g

stepped back and slammed the heavy oak door shut w

ise-canceling earplugs, and slipped them in. She climbed into the cold bed, turned off the lamp, an

ls digging into her palms until they bled, glaring at