Craving for My Tyrant Husband

p with a splitting hea

ned, rol

pery, expensive satin. Not the cotton blend she had on her bed i

hould have been on her nightstand. Her fingers brushe

leidoscope of beige and gold. She forced her v

ate of M

ribs, a physical blow that k

e sheet poolin

wearing h

ves rolled up, the fabric smelling of cedarwo

whispered.

rthless without him. The open bar. So much vodka. And then... a man. A tie. She remembered

. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, fu

atinum cufflink that glinted ma

ing so hard the paper rattled. The

Last night was..

a man whose na

her hands into her eyes,

hin

of large, warm hands on her waist, and eye

st the wood, a violent b

om under a pillow th

sed calls. A

n, bringing the phon

dache. "You disappeared! One minute you were crying about Darrin near the ice sc

e croaked. "Illa, I thin

in? Because if you did, I know

he seal was embossed. It looked terrify

nd of something shatte

r voice drop-dead serious. "Bring

her face heat up. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the dresser. Her hair was a bi

way the shame. She found her dress from last night drap

muttered. "

trench coat hanging by the door. It swallowed her whole, wrapping he

to her lipstick, was a black credit card. Heavy metal.

t. Was this pay

ck into the bag,She wa

g to fix thi

ok to erase this man fr

nd stepped into the h

ride down was

h Roman," she told her reflection. "You survived your parents' death. You survi

arble. She kept her head down,

.. Ma

fro

fob. "The gentleman left this fo

eek, predatory, and probably wor

r voice shaking. "

mid New York air. She hailed a cab,

?" the dr

South," she said.

gripped the marriage certificate in

eed to marry a drunk, crying girl. But she was going to find