My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

Hartm

d. I stepped out of the phone booth, the cold Chicago wind biting at my exp

nctuary of the guest room. But the moment I stepped into the foyer, the air felt differe

ling. He looked up as I entered, his eyes wide, the pupils blown with pure terror. The arrogance he had

s in two long strides. He grabbed my upper arm, his fingers diggi

cing as I pulled my arm from his

ords choking him. "Anthony is back f

y, the man who held the leash to the monster I married. I had never met him-he had been in Italy a

a cold knot form

a hand through his disheveled hair, his breathing shallow. "You need to go upstairs and change.

at a table with Joshua, pretending to be a happy couple whil

ing. "You don't get a choice. No one says no to Anthony. If we aren't there, if we look like anything less than the perfect, loyal

toward the stairs

r bedroom, the scene of our earlier argument, and went straight to t

he part. The dutif

r first anniversary. They were cold, impersonal stones, but he ins

rushed the v

glittering under t

r slot w

r, shaking it. Necklaces and bracelets spilled onto the marble top, a chaotic cascade of gold a

th

replayed the last twenty-four hours in my mind. The g

pent

st have lost it there. In the bed. Tangled in the sheets w

ond stud wasn't just jewelry; it was evidence. Proof of my

voice boomed from the bottom o

it. I couldn't

he jewelry box, burying it under a tangle of chains. My hands trembled as I grabbe

was covered. The fear in my eyes was masked. The missing diamond was a tic

ngs, and walked out of the room to meet my husband, praying t