His Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce

Coralie Sinclair woke up in the dim, luxurious penthouse suite of the Waldorf Astoria. Her entire body ached. Her muscles felt like they had been pulled tight and snapped.

She felt a heavy weight across her waist. She turned her head slowly against the silk pillowcase. Alec Montgomery lay beside her. His sharp jawline and straight nose looked cold even in his sleep. His breathing was deep and even.

Flashes of last night hit her brain like lightning strikes. Alec had been drunk. He had pinned her against the door. His kisses had been rough, out of control, burning her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard it hurt.

She held her breath. She carefully lifted his heavy arm. She moved inch by inch, terrified of waking him.

Alec muttered a low, slurred syllable in his sleep. His brows pulled together in a tight frown.

Coralie froze. Her bare back pressed flat against the cold silk sheets. She did not dare to blink. Her stomach tied itself into a tight knot.

She waited until his breathing smoothed out again. Then, she quickly threw off the blanket and slid out of the massive bed.

Her bare feet hit the thick carpet. The air conditioning blasted her skin, making her shiver violently.

She picked up her torn silk slip dress from the floor. She pulled it over her head with shaking hands.

She turned to look back at the bed. Her eyes locked onto the center of the mattress. Her blood ran cold.

There, on the pristine white sheets, was a dark red bloodstain.

Panic gripped her throat. She couldn't breathe. That physical evidence destroyed the boundary of their three-year contract marriage.

In Alec's eyes, she believed, she was nothing more than the perfect executive assistant. She reminded herself that she was just a convenient shield for his family trust fund. That, she told herself, was the deal.

If Alec woke up and saw that stain, he would think she crossed the line on purpose. He would think she was a greedy gold digger trying to use her body to secure her position as his real wife.

She had to protect her last shred of dignity. She walked quickly to the nightstand. She grabbed the half-empty glass of red wine left over from last night.

Her hand trembled, but she forced it steady. She tilted her wrist. She poured the dark red liquid directly onto the bloodstain.

The wine soaked into the fabric instantly. It spread out, covering the original mark completely. It just looked like a spilled drink now.

She let out a long, shaky breath. Her lungs burned.

She forced a bitter smile. She picked up her high heels and her blazer from the floor. She walked into the bathroom on her tiptoes.

Inside the marble bathroom, she locked the door. She turned on the shower to the highest pressure to drown out any noise.

She stood under the scalding hot water. She scrubbed her skin hard, trying to wash away the scent of mint and tobacco that belonged to Alec. Her skin turned red, but she kept scrubbing.

She dried off and walked into the expansive walk-in closet. She found one of her spare business suits hanging there, a standard arrangement for the CEO's top assistant in his permanent hotel suites. She stood in front of the mirror. She tied her hair back into a tight, flawless bun. She put on her professional mask.

She opened the bathroom door quietly. The man in the bedroom was still asleep.

She walked into the outer living room of the suite. She picked up her phone from the glass coffee table.

The screen lit up. A breaking news alert from a top entertainment outlet popped up.

She tapped it without thinking. A high-definition paparazzi photo filled her screen.

It was Dianna Beaumont. The Hollywood darling was walking out of LAX, wearing designer sunglasses and a bright smile.

The bold headline read: Hollywood Darling Dianna Beaumont Returns to the US After Three Years.

Coralie stared at Dianna's perfect face. A cold cramp twisted her stomach.

She knew better than anyone who Dianna was. Dianna was Alec's high school sweetheart. She was the untouchable first love he kept hidden deep in his heart.

This news hit Coralie like a physical slap to the face. It was a loud reminder. Her three-year role as a stand-in was over. The real lead was back.

She took a deep breath. She shoved her phone into her handbag. She straightened her spine and walked out of the suite. It was time to get a divorce.