From Secret Mistress to Sterling Queen

were still scattered around, a book on the nightstand, my robe on the bac

d. It was a te

ty will be up in one hour to escort you out. Your belongings will

and efficient. Fiancee. Our home. T

dically, clinically. The silk lingerie he liked, the expensive dresses he bought

y college days, a framed photo of my grandmother, a simple pair of je

o, that arrogant, handsome face. For five years, he had been the center of my

There was nothing left for me there. As I stepped into the hallway, I saw the two security guards

ot a victim to be pitied. I was a King, and I had