The Imprisoned Wife's Secret Empire

Cole

y head back against the plush cushions of the terrace lounge chair, one hand resting protectively over

eyelashes trembled open. I looked down at the swell of my belly, my smile wid

e thing. It was a shield against the memories of a life that felt a world away, a life of never qu

e yo

, his arms caging me in a loose, familiar embrace, his chin restin

red. "Don't want yo

re, sweet and comforting. I relaxed back into his hold

r kick came, stronger this time. He chuckled, a low rumble against my ea

h his eye. "I was hoping he'd be more lik

nt of his clean, expensive cologne filling

ion of a second, something flickered across his face. Not annoyance. Something harder. Colder. Then it was gon

?" I

he said, and the ma

watch I hadn't seen him wear in years. It was a simple, classic piec

me," I said, my tone light and conversa

elt it. A sudden tension in the arm wrapped around

light. "Nothing," he said, his tone a little too casual. "The housekeep

new that watch. I knew who gave it to

enough. A hint of impatience entered his voic

, was something I knew well. It was the way he'd been raised-to m

t thin, and the sweet taste of the milk turned to

er's voice carried across the terrace, tinged with

in my throat. I

ing else. He released me, stood up straight, and ran a hand over hi

movement hurt more

wing summer dress. Her makeup was flawless, her smile perfectly pleasant

His ex

behind her mother's legs, peering

g squarely on my pregnant stomach. She glided toward us, her smile never w

e honey as she took my hand in her cool, firm grip.

. "Sarah, this is Olivia

. Don't be such a stranger." She released my hand and turned to him, her tone shifting to one of easy

ere a perfectly aimed dar

es held a strange, unreadable light. She bent down, her face close to my stomach as if

meant only for me, laced with a sweetnes

er all, just don'