His Unwanted Wife Is A Genius Scientist

nister. Before heading down, she remembered her personal passport and original patent

on had insisted that Charline stay for the evening, claiming she was still emotionally fragile after her battle with clinical depression. He

ntly down the carpeted hall. Downstairs, the muffled soun

oom was dark, illuminated only by the cold grey glow o

personal access code, she opened it and retrieved her passport and original patent filing certificate

ve mahogany desk. The bottom drawer reminded her of the way he had guar

she couldn't rely on her own word alone. She needed evidence-something concrete enough that nei

drawer. Her fingers brushed past standard corporate tax

al click echoed in the quiet room, and a hidd

ession every time he opened this compartment late at night. Without

ickered to life. The h

Instead, the compartment held a thick stack of yellowed

their years at Columbia University. On the back of a picture showing Charline leaning against h

photograph of Aliana from four years ago, tak

t to her scratched-out face, Aaron had written: "Her eyes look

se in her throat, cold and bitter. Her fingers gripped

r the paper. Sh

very inscription, and every page of the album under the desk lamp. Eac

returned every document to its exac

the grand staircase. The heavy wheels rolled across the step

f herbal tea to Charline, who sat curled up on the vel

ice dripping with condescension. "Are you throwing another tantrum

ss. "Aliana, please don't leave because of me. Aaron wa

ion, then looked at Aaron. She felt nothing-no anger

e apartment," Aliana said c

u survive in the city on your own. When your bank account dries up, don't

y, Aaron," Alian

front entrance, stepped out into the

nhattan, the glass conference room of Bryan & Assoc

n the East Coast, stood respectfully near the floor-

ad, his posture relaxed yet radiating absolute authority. A pair of silver wire-rimmed

lar Watts Group, casually flicked the wheel of a silver

vacated the Long Island residence. Her associate, Maya Sterling,

of his lighter. The room f

ep, smooth, and laced with quiet steel. "Represent her

ough the family trust structure. If we initiate litigation against Baker BioT

f the city lights gleamed across his sil

Clarke said softly, his fingers tapping the glass table. "

low. In his mind, an image from six years ago at the global biotechnology symposium in Zurich flickered to l

ked toward his private elevator. "Was that Mr. Watts? He hasn't stepped in

her wet coat on the rack, and sat down at the kitchen table. She opened