I Faked My Death to Take His Empire

Twice in my life, I've been another man's kept bird.

The first time I was young and green, taken in by a brutal Riverton nouveau riche.

Back then I was naive and soft, certain that if I was sweet enough, I'd earn something real in return.

Then I found out he only kept me as something to use, while behind my back he threw a fortune at the working girls all over the Tri-State area.

I walked away with nothing but the clothes on my back. Clean.

The second time, I thought I'd gotten smarter. I went with Val James, the financial titan the whole circle knew as cold and untouchable, a man who supposedly wanted nothing from anyone.

In our three years of marriage,

he doted on me beyond reason. Wherever I went, he sent bodyguards to shadow me, never letting me out of their sight.

People in the circle laughed that the old tree had finally bloomed, that he'd lost his head over some unknown woman.

And I believed it too. I thought this time I'd won the favoritism on my own.

Until this Memorial Day weekend, when I went with Val back to Harborview to visit the family elders.

Out on the terrace of the old estate, I heard Josephine James let out a long sigh.

"When it comes to obsession, no one in this world can match you."

"Back then the Crawford heiress looked down on you for being a bastard. She nearly let you drown in the sea, and you swore you'd make her wish she were dead."

"And now? Your wife. You went and found one with the face she had before her surgery, didn't you?"

"……"

The man was silent a long time. "Grandmother, don't let Penny hear that."

I was standing on the other side of the terrace, my fingertips locked around the railing.

"Why are you out here alone in the wind? You'll catch cold."

Val's gentle voice came from behind me.

He draped a coat over my shoulders, then slid his arms around my waist from behind.

My whole body went rigid.

Those three things Josephine had said kept echoing through my head, over and over.

Val took my hand. "Penny, why are your hands so cold?"

He lifted my hand to his lips and breathed warmth over it.

I turned around and quietly drew my hand free.

"Val. Who am I?"

Looking into those tender eyes, I couldn't stop the last three years from rising up in me, every day and every night of them.

The way he brought me a glass of warm milk every night, late, without fail.

The way he canceled a ten-billion-dollar merger when I had cramps and stayed up the whole night rubbing my stomach.

"……"

So all of it had been for another woman?

He smoothed a hand over my hair.

"Silly. Do you even need to ask? You're the wife I love most."

I opened my mouth to speak, and his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. His expression didn't change.

"Penny, something's come up at the European office. I have to go to the study and take an overseas video call."

He bent and pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

"Be good. Go to sleep. Don't wait up for me."

I watched his retreating back, numb.

I went back to the bedroom alone.

On the nightstand, the tablet Val used for his financial news suddenly lit up.

A chat window popped open on the messaging app, no name saved to the contact.

What came through was a photo.

The background was one of those high-end hotels in Harborview known for its privacy.

In the frame, a woman in black lace lingerie, her eyes wet and gleaming.

Her features were delicate, exquisitely done.

And yet you could still see it, the line of her face, just a little like mine.

The Crawford heiress. Seraphina Crawford.

Before I could even react,

the chat log was wiped clean.

On his end, Val had cleared the whole conversation.

Less than a minute later, footsteps came down the hall, deliberately soft.

I listened to the engine fade into the distance.

My hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white.

After a moment, I drew in a long breath.

I followed the logo that had slipped, unnoticed, into the corner of that photo, hailed a car, and went after him.