The Fake Wife's Spectacular Genius Comeback

the massive oak desk, the glow of her monitor illuminating a stack of patent registration documents for

the glass door m

Italian restaurant. He wore his most charming smile, the

nside. He placed the bag on her desk, the aroma of truffle and

relaxed posture. She offered him a small, plac

umbs began to knead the tense muscles there. It was meant to be

you know that?" he m

ad, she leaned her head back slightly. "I

ibrated in his pocket.

phone, glanced at the screen, and his expression tigh

lway, leaving the heavy office door slightly ajar. A classic Julian move. Creating the illusion of

ck to her, his voice

her heels, her bare feet silent on the plush carpet. Like a shadow, s

her Apple Watch, activating the audio recorder app

erent now. The sharp, business-like edge was gone, replaced

r end, too low to make out the words, but

m handling it. I'll get everything sorted out, an

ve

heart. He was going to bring his pregna

atch. The screen confirmed the recording was save

footsteps shift. He

e was behind her desk, heels back on, eyes glued to a spreadsheet when he wa

, the mask of the diligen

any. Looks like I'm going to have to go meet

to Isabelle. The lie was so blatant, so insulting in

she said, her voice dripping with

acceptance, a flicker of guilt in his e

line on the patent document. "Julian, look at t

roblem. He frowned at the paper. "I'll have legal look at it tomorrow."

teps receding down

oe opened the audio file on her laptop. Julian's t

ile, renaming i

a discreet private investigator whose card

ne was simple:

t a 24/7 tail on Isabelle Vance. I want to know everywhere she goes, everyone s

hit

ce reflecting her own cold, determined face. He wanted to

ival, after all, the only way to better monitor and co