The Billionaire's Wife Escapes To Antarctica

Amy stared through the lenses of her microscope, adjusting the focus knob. The repet

Chloe Nash, her coworker, stood there looking uncomfortable

rubbed her tired eyes and walked down t

ny desk. He had a wide, fake smile plastered on his

representative this afternoon. We are hostin

name at the top was printed

I can't do this, Dean Cromwell. I have a critical

fifty million dollars for the new modern art wing. The board is giving the naming

, I will personally see to it that your research funding for the next academic ye

etallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Her career, her e

I will

e main administrative building. She wore a stiff,

ed walking. Media photographers, tipped off by the university PR team,

stepped out. He looked immaculate in a dark nav

the vehicle and opened the door. He reached inside and carefully lif

sses and a soft cashmere blanket draped ov

she had to swallow back bile. She forced her facial muscles

Welcome. This is Dr. Torres, our top resea

witched violently. His fingers tightened on the handles of the whe

She looked up at Amy. A sweet, victorious

d backward, reciting the history of the brick buildin

right behind her, never leaving her side. He

statue. "Hey Giselle, maybe they'll put a statue of you in fron

Amy's presence. He spoke

him to shut up. Instead, he leaned down and

t. He was letting his friend humiliate his legal

ring. Some pointed at Amy. The pity in

ndle of the megaphone. Her fingernails dug into the pla

malice. She let her hand drop casually to the side of the wh