The billionaire's disabled wife

old and white against the dark sky. Elliot sat beside her, his jaw clenched and his hand gripping his phone like

t anymore. "Are you going to

on the screen of his phone. "It's noth

me. You dragged me away like I was some misbehaving

she turned to face him fully.

tiffened, but h

tell me. But don't expect me to sit quietly

he driver to assist Sophia. By the time she reached the penthouse, he was already p

me all night?" she asked, wh

t do you want me to say, Sophia? That Etha

d, her voice rising. "Because right now, i

might lash out. But instead, he downed his drink i

e," he said finally, his

repeated, her

h his hair. "We were more than frie

rms of her chair to steady herself. She hadn't be

tterly. "Love? No

red to admit, but she pushed pas

id, turning away from her.

rly still matters to you. And judging by the way he l

and almost vulnerable. "Ethan was... complicated. We were complicated. A

nto something softer. "So you shut him

ening again. "Don't try to psychoanalyze m

feel like you're not enough? Believe me,

t she saw something flicker in his eyes-regret,

ed," he said, h

else she couldn't quite name. She wanted to be angry with him, but beneath

ed her more t

low and urgent, and it took her a moment to realize he was on the phone in

takes," he was saying. "I w

pped even lower. "Ethan Lane is not a pro

ing? And why did it feel like Ethan was ju

fore making her way to the study. If Elliot wasn't go

he hated snooping, but the nagging feeling in her gut wouldn't l

statements, emails, photographs. Elliot hadn't just kept tabs

t

he was standing on the edge of a secre