"Oh, and babe," he added, keeping his tone light, "I'll probably be busy the next few days too. Don't read too much into it."
"I know." I nodded obediently, but inside, all that remained was a cold, silent sneer.
Go on then. Rush off to escort your mistress to her prenatal checkup, tweak the design drafts, prep for the jewelry competition.
The moment Ralph walked out the door, I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to his company.
To the outside world, I was simply Ralph Dickerson's wife: a woman who didn't work, designed jewelry at home, and occasionally helped her husband out. Nobody knew I was the sole heiress of Henson Group.
Sitting at the front desk was none other than Lisa Perry.
She looked even more innocent than in the photos. Long hair draped over her shoulders, eyes that seemed clean and harmless. Beneath her loose-fitting blazer, her belly had already begun to show.
Who would have guessed that behind that guileless face lurked a woman clinging to another woman's husband, eyeing his money and his home?
"Hello, how can I help you?" Her voice was syrupy sweet, her smile flawless.