/0/94339/coverbig.jpg?v=22c6927eae866ad7c21e93d64171c32f)
. It was a "temporary maneuver," he said, to appease h
ced me to give my blood to save her, thre
" and expected me to wait
ood his pragmatic wif
queen-the one who would take his cro
pte
Ramire
of our company's founding, in the penthouse apartment our s
at. My eyes were fixed on the bold text: Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. Below, our
, as if he were discussing a minor dip in quarterly ea
e crystal champagne flutes, the panoramic view of the city we had conquered, Kyle's handsome, treacherous face-it all blurred into a nauseating smear of light and lies. Five ye
cause of my condition." My inability to carry a child to term. A wound so deep we had architected our entire future
gaze dropping to the flickering can
ing to find a foothold in a reality that was crumbling beneath me. This was a strategy. A cruel, ela
low, persuasive cadence he used to charm investors. "She needs to feel secure. A contract. Once the baby is born and a proper trust is
he first line on the map of our shared empire. He was gone. A cold, calculating stranger wore his face. "You want m
ely deaf to the hurricane of my breaking heart. "Think of it as a strategic investment in
m in your risk man
covering mine. His touch, once my sanctuary, felt like th
face. "Aimee, we built this compa
ud in the opulent silence. "You're having a baby with another woman!
Look, in a year, maybe two, I'll arrange a quiet divorce from her. I'
chaos in my mind. "And what happens to her? To yo
a trust fund. It's what men in my position do. It's pragmatic." He leaned back, the picture of detached reason. "And to show my commitment to our partne
ind, brilliant man I loved hadn't been corrupted by success; he had been
ddenly, eerily calm. "Did you expect me to thank
"I expected you to understand what's at stake. I still love y
canopy of stars, was a fresh stab of pain. He loved my mind, my ambition, my utili
my voice flat, dead. "
ry ghosting on his lips. He thought he'd won. He thought I would fold, as I always did, for the good of th
t the screen, and his entire face transformed. The cold CEO melted away, replace
ice a soft caress. "No, of course you're not bo
ou are. I'm on my way." He stood, pocketing his phone, his
calling a minor loose end. "Just sign it, Ai
reckage. The untouched anniversary dinner sat on
for m
m my chest. It was the sound of a queen realizin
he gold-plated pen, and walked out of that penthouse. I l
'd leased under a shell corporation two years ago. My failsafe. The city lights blurred past, n
k. Kyle had just handed me a declaration of war. And he had no idea

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