The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Destiny

From the back cover

The air in the New York City Hall clerk's office was thick with stale paper and cheap coffee.

I, Aurora "Rory" Sterling, heiress to Sterling Global, stood beside my fiancé, Pres Hayes, seconds away from signing our marriage license.

This document was key to my grandfather' s will, granting my spouse controlling influence on the company board.

Then Pres' s phone vibrated, a frantic, insistent sound.

He stepped away, his face pale, muttering, "It' s Tiff. Tiffany Larson. An emergency. I have to go."

He didn't look back.

He just left, abandoning me at the counter, a fool in my cream dress.

Moments later, a text from him popped up: "Tiff needs me. Look, Rory, this Sterling Global thing… it' s still on. Tiff' s generous. She said she' s okay with you being a sister-wife, you know? Or maybe you could be a surrogate for our kids. Once I' m on the board, we can make it work. I' ll schedule time for you."

Sister-wife.

Surrogate.

Schedule time.

The audacity, the cruelty, was breathtaking; he wasn't just manipulative, he was a monster.

The naive part of me shattered, replaced by something cold and hard.

He thought I was weak, broken bait.

He was wrong.

My grandfather' s will said "spouse," not "Pres."

My fingers, surprisingly steady, scrolled through my contacts.

"Ethan," I said, my voice clear, "I need you. Marry me. Right now."