His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Genius Architect

of her fingers cold. Exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter to finish her des

rnoon making, its dark chocolate curls and sugar-du

er tired eyes. The last messages from her conversation with he

spend the afternoon baking a cake for that jerk? To celebrate your anniversary and birthday? I just do

e. Melanie was the only person who knew the depths of her

he screen for a long moment bef

ow, he's actually really good to me. T

words, she could bar

sage she'd sent to her husband, Julian,

over? I m

she had learned to swallow over the past year. H

down the rising tide of disappoin

as already ajar, leaving a

hrough the opening. It was a voice that m

tepsister, A

sickening, crept up her spine. She didn't push the door. Instead,

d through

adows. The air was thick with the scent of Julian's cigars, mingled

m, her gaze traveling past th

here

as turned away from her. In front of hi

lace. He was looking down, his focus absolute, as

ace-it was a tenderness Stella had never, not o

es, as if guided by a cruel instinct, seemed to look directly toward the c

nough to carry. "Will your sister... be ang

dy as ever, devoid of any emotion.

out of her lungs. The blood in her veins turned to ice. A

remble violently. The beautiful ribb

run, but her feet fe

oor, raised her voice, a saccharine, pitying tone laci

, twisting turn of a knife

rred. The opulent h

bled backward, her body hitting the wa

ion inside st

. But in that mome

arefully prepared for him. The piped frosting tha

e washed over the heartbreak. Hum

er own, she lunged forward and slammed the ca

ar roses splattered across the poli

ke her

e turned and ran, stumbl

heard the door b

ice, laced not with concern, but with

to an open elevator car and frantica

n, standing in the doorway, his face a mask of disbelief. And besid

e slid to the floor. Her phone, the one he'd given her, fell f

and distant even in the picture. Hers, full

ng hand, she

or wall. The screen spiderwebbed