His Discarded Wife Was The Real Boss

d's mafia empire, coding the complex alg

ad of a gift, I received a photo of hi

He brought his pregnant mistress, Jami, into our

e sneered, treating me like a slow servant r

shoved me hard, sending me crash

rehead, I watched the man I loved step over my body to co

call for help. He looked at me wit

e wife died, and t

e I had no assets in my name. He

wasn't just the furniture in h

pted drive, every hidden

ce and walked out the door,

store and bought a te

ing to just

ing to d

pte

ana

gaze snagging instantly on a bottle of cheap, bubblegum pink nail polish

ke a neon sign

did not

irewalls, his eyes scanning the money laundering streams I had de

d at th

teenager would b

elet made of shark te

ts invading the sanctity

our coffee

at me without

oast, Eliana. I have a meeting

e was di

e way one speaks

uit that cost more than my father's first car

as a

only because I had built hi

y vintage Nikon cameras to

my art for

one last time before turni

smelled of b

ast wa

fect metapho

ce of meat for a man who would likely e

zzed in my

t from an un

the linen cloth and

s a p

y, taken in low light, but t

ing possessively on a wo

w tha

knuckle from a knife

y, I knew

Patek P

rs to buy him that watch

ion spread from my c

not hea

inical realization th

ack toward

ear Dusti

ad not heard direc

into the phone. "That little tip

pau

tonight. Wear

I stepped in

ce instantly hardening

it now,

calendar on the

my birthda

bli

was a flicker of s

it was

nconvenience of having

and grabbed

-tooth bracelet and sho

, the meeting got moved up.

as l

he never thought he needed

was just th

ner," he said, walking past me wit

oing to

not w

the front do

back to t

can and dumped th

and pulled out the pregnancy t

till in

us

it on top

shifte

he wife worrying

t inspecting a cru