From Betrayed Wife, to CEOs Contract Bride

EX

onths, divorce your husband, and

eel of my Toyota Corolla, my knuckles turning white. The morning sun glinted off the dashboa

interior of my car as I pressed harder on the accelerator. T

ositioned me as if I were some commodity to be bought and sold. The worst part? He'd done it with that infuriatingly comp

iage I'd been

oiffed brown hair, designer suit, and eyes that held more secrets than I cared to admit.

red to myself, easing off the accelerator as I approached a red light. "That I'm just anot

d at me when he made the proposal – not with lust or greed, but with something else entirely. Something that reminded me o

.." My throat tightened at the thought of them. Gone now, but their final act had been to ensure my mar

to reality. I'd drifted into the

, heart pounding as I swerved back i

tten such an important document? What was wrong with me today? First Nathan's propo

ive neighborhood, all glass and steel and hollow luxury. The securit

omething felt off as I entered the house. Logan's Italian wool coat hung carelessly over

– I'd dropped him at the airport myself last night, watchi

go," I muttered, heading for the s

m, as Logan liked to call it – I heard it. The sound

tight." Logan's voice

I haven't..." A familiar female v

veins. That voice – it coul

en as my mind screamed at me to run, to pretend I'd h

ike I was walking to my own execution. My ha

age bed, their naked bodies illuminated by the morning sun streaming through our floor-to-ceiling windows.

at, hot tears streaming down my face. The betrayal was a physical

sheets I'd picked out during our honeymoon in Milan – to cover herself, her face

ate suit. I chose a black jumpsuit – funeral appropriate, I thought with bitter humor – a

desk, my movements mechanical, d

think," Logan stammered, reaching for my h

for him in my eyes. "You two can continue with your sin," I said, my voice arctic. "I've g

and rage, my mind already formulating plans. By the t

ered, and I'm ready t

s moment. He slid an envelope across his mahogany desk, his sign

r. When he commented on how beautiful I looked in my hat, I m

d confidante. Her cheerful "Hello there, Mrs.

is," I corrected he

not Mrs

y last one of Logan Pierce's assets – every property, every share, every last penny – transferred to his unborn child." My hand rested p

ern was evident. "Did you

one told me they caught Logan cheating," I l

divorce is t

ll teeth. "I want to make sure Logan has

ome to my office tomorrow at 3 PM

mind was made up. Nothing

e. And be safe!" She hung

ontract. The morning sun caught the diamond on my wedding ring, throwing rainbow pat

igail. I would ta