Return Of The Billionaire's Ghost Wife

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ong Island's gold coast. She'd made this trip dozens of times, hundreds maybe, in the life she'd had before. Always with children in the b

felt onl

rivate beach where Hector had learned to swim and the twins had built sandcastles that lasted exactly one tide. It w

d his harness, reached for her hand, but she was already moving, already pushing open the

aited at

fifteen years in service, the closest thing to continuity in a world that had moved on without her. He looke

lesh. An impossibility

voice was steady, tr

o say something that would bridge the impossible

explode

es-burning with a rage that hadn't dimmed since their video call. He must

looking at Jordi, at the hand that still rested on her elbow, at the intimacy of the

cto

retend this is-" He laughed, the sound broken and bitter. "Is that her style? Did you dress her up like a ghost, Father?

ce of a CEO shutting down a failed presentation

o, and you mourned her for exactly as long as it took to find a replacement. A younger model. A-" He looked at Isadora, really looked, and she saw the moment he recognized the cloth

your m

ds scattering from the trees. "She's a con artist you've paid

the violence coiled in him, the willingness to use force that had never been part of the man she'd married. "You are speak

em, father and son, two ve

in, softer this ti

Let's play." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a phone, began typing with deliberate slowness. "I'm calling the board. Emergency session.

to

ak. It wasn't loud, wasn't shouted, but something in it-some authority s

her, really looked, and she saw the question in his

n, into the space between father and son. "You want scientific, un

behind her. "Issy,

ge. "Your father had his doctor examine me. Blood tests, cellular analysis, everything modern medicine can measure. The res

ossi

am. Standing in front of you. Wearing clothes from a closet that should have been donate

d pulled it free. Her hair fell around her shoulders, the same c

a strand near her temple, and pulled-hard-feeling the sharp pain as follicles tore fr

from-" She stopped, the reality hitting her. "From before. From whatever they recovered.

hair she was offering, the p

would you-if you're lying, if this is s

th the armor. "And I will not let you hate me because you're afraid to hope. I will not let you destroy yourse

into his palm, closed

ve to face what you've done, what you've said-" She held his gaze, unfl