e heiress for a modest house with the man who sa
an' s perfume. He called his affair a "business merger," but the h
as pregnant with the "only legitimate heir." In front of everyone, she of
or, stood by her side and said nothing as
s voice trembling, and asked a question
s having a baby..
ng their engagement party, where he pushed our son to the floor and denied hi
lked out of that life forever, and made the call to the empire I
pte
Mayo
t of another woman' s perfume. It wasn' t cheap or obvious. It was expensive. Ja
iant CEO of a rising tech firm, and our son, Dexter. But before that, I was April Sterling, the sole heiress to the Sterling corpora
felt like a tomb I
d in my mind, a phantom ache I could never quite shake. "He' s not one of us, April. Ambition is his god. One day
gh my veins. Where was the ruthless heiress now? She felt like a ghost, a story told about
light. He moved with a quiet confidence that had once made my pulse race. Now, it just
t beside me, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from m
his voice a low, intima
t an hour ago. "Tech Mogul Emerson Goodman and Socialite Chloe Cochran: A Match Made in Merger Heaven?" The article was accompanied by a phot
. It was in his hair, on his skin, soaked into the very
he guise of finalizing the merger between Goodman Innovations and
away. "You stink," I mumbled, my voice thick with a dis
il, I... I' m sorry. The meetings with Chloe run late. You
easily. Chloe. Not
om, a flicker of embarrassment in his movements. In a few minutes, he' d come back smelling
dependent on another woman' s influence and power ever
ed up, blessed with a quiet life she didn' t deserve. Nobody knew I was the woman wh
e hard planes of his chest. He was still beautiful. Devastatingly so. The same man who had pulled me from t
rld. My car had skidded on a patch of ice and flipped. He had been the first on the
I remember the raw power in his shoulders, the intensity in his dark ey
night, his voice thick with a possessiveness tha
his only partner, the mother of his children, the
o pull me into his arms. But the ghost of jasmine and roses
g?" he murmured, his
g. I' m
at man was gone, replaced by this stran
he front door, shattering the tense sil
und of pure exaspera
d, urgent voice of Chloe Cochran' s butler. "Mr. Goodman, my apo
od ran
no hesitation, no thought for me or our
didn' t even look at me. "Chloe' s not feeling wel
he slip was there, the unconscious intimacy. "Her doctor says stress makes the
ssing his features. "I' ll be back before yo
home, while he went to comfort another woman. He expect
him a small, tight smile. The smile of
smile and thought it was acceptance. He didn' t see th
aving me and Dexter in the suffocating q
cted me
uldn' t be waiting
-