Secrets Of The Betrayed Wife's Revenge

ll does that

sweeping mahogany staircase, her slippers making soft, urgent slapping sounds on the st

treet Journal spread out before him. He looked up from the paper, his gray eyes cool a

leaning forward, her chest heaving. She held up h

t says, Aria," he said, his voice maddeningly calm. "Cassie has nowhere to go

olute. "Absolutely not. She i

m grew colder. "Show some compassion. For G

that echoed in the cavernous kitchen. "Compassion?

n of the power he wielded in boardrooms across the city. The scent of his expensive co

he warned, his voic

e. The desperation inside her was a roaring fire. "Do you remembe

. "Don't start with that a

fear and anger. "She pushed me, Bentley! Cassie pushed me down those stairs because

atience wore thin. It was a gesture that dismissed her, that red

not i

f her since the day I introduced you. Cassie is one of the kindest, most gentle peop

ears welled in her eyes, hot and stinging. "Why?" she whispered, h

pathy. To him, they were just another tool of m

he said, his voice devoid o

ine wool settling perfectly on his broad shoulders. He was already moving on, shutting her

his jacket was smooth and unyielding under her frantic fi

lent, sending her stumbling backward into a dini

cold fury. He pointed a finger at her,

en with respect. And if I hear you utter one more slanderous word against

. Get out. The words hammered into her brain, stunning her into si

towards the foyer. The sharp, rhythmic click of his Italian lea

sical blow, a deafening boom that vibrated through the

rom under her. She covered her face with her hands, and a choked, guttur

n his half-empty coffee cup on the island. The b