Ten Minutes Before I Married a Woman Thirty Years Younger Than Me, My Three-Year-Old Grandson Gripped My Hand and Whispered “Grandpa, She Hit Mommy” — Then He Pulled a Scratched Flash Drive From His Pocket, and What My Daughter Had Hidden on It Stopped the Wedding and Nearly Sent Me to a Honeymoon That Would Have Cost Me Everything

She had never loved anything else in the whole arrangement, and under enough pressure, even she couldn’t keep pretending otherwise.

Chapter 13 — The Spare Key

At eight-twenty that night, an alert from my home security system lit up my phone.

Someone had just walked through my front door.

It was Vivienne.

She had used the spare key I’d given her two months earlier, in the easy trust of a man who thought he was building a life.

On the foyer camera she had changed out of the ivory gown into a dark coat, a large leather tote over her shoulder, and I watched on the little screen as she climbed the stairs toward my private study.

“She’s in my house,” I said, and started to rise, and Desmond put a hand on my arm.