Swapping Lives With My Cold Ex-Husband

n island, carefully stirring the French

g broth filled the air, but her stomac

on the wall. Ten minutes until

f a sports car engine vibra

with the familiar, suffocating tension that always gripped her. She untie

oak door s

n't Do

expensive bourbon and stale cigar smoke. His cu

s mud-caked leather loafers stepped d

ff your shoes," Dara

laugh. He looked her up a

enup, Dara. You don't get to tell

intentionally clipping hers, and

d, eyeing the stove. "Let's

n front of him. "That

A vicious, ugly gleam

bbed the handle of the

asped, lunging forward to steady the

into her eyes. He l

btle flick of his w

seafood soup cascaded over the edge, splashing dir

ked in a sharp

ng, a searing heat that melted into her nerve endings.

raised in mock surrender

ng of stiletto heels echoe

into the kitchen, freezin

Jacquelin shrieked, her

nst her chest, her breathing shall

u can't even hold a pot of soup without making a d

abbing a manicured finger hard

my stepson a proper meal, I will have you thrown out of

of her cheek so ha

up on the floor. She forced her muscles to relax,

ispered. "I'll clean

She turned on her heel, grabbing Keven by

aded, the submissive slump i

ned dead and

ned on the cold water, shoving her bli

shook violently, but her resolve was absolute. She bit one end of the white gauze with her teeth and used her trembling left hand to clumsily, yet tightly, wrap the fabric around the bl

her silk blouse down, com

n wiping the greasy broth off the floor, perfectly

ring engine of an Aston Ma

nd stoppe