Part 1
My name is Lauren Hayes, and at twenty-eight years old, six months pregnant with twins, I was freezing to death on the marble steps of the Plaza Hotel while my husband showcased his new trophy to five hundred elite Manhattan investors.
Inside the Grand Ballroom, flashbulbs exploded across the gilded ceiling. My husband, Carter Reed—the celebrated founder of Reed...
Part 1
My name is Lauren Hayes, and at twenty-eight years old, six months pregnant, I thought I was walking into the crowning achievement of my life. Instead, I stepped straight into an execution.
Standing beneath the chandeliers of the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan, my hands rested protectively over my swollen belly. My husband, Carter Reed—the newly minted tech golden boy...
Part 1
My name is Maya Vance, and thirty seconds ago, I realized the man sleeping beside me in our suburban Chicago home was not my husband.
It started with a muted vibration beneath his pillow. Mark was supposed to be a senior logistics director for a pharmaceutical distributor, a routine-driven man who couldn't sleep without his white-noise machine. But when...
Part 2
Marlon’s salute held for a beat before he lowered his hand. Nobody at the table moved. Garrett stared at the phone as if the page might change if he looked away. Kayla’s fingers pressed to her lips.
“You were there?” I asked.
“Second squad,” Marlon said. “We were pinned on the ridge. Our radio was gone, the weather was closing...
Part 2
The attacker raised his weapon, but I was already moving. I yanked the fire extinguisher from its wall bracket and discharged it toward his face. White powder filled the entrance. He stumbled, coughing, and the taller SEAL tackled him from the side. They hit the floor hard. The weapon skidded beneath a table. I heard a sharp crack...
Part 2
I remembered the night before Ray finished asking.
Eli had been trapped beside the wrecked vehicle, frightened and in pain. I had stayed with him while the rest of the team worked to get help to us. I’d talked about ordinary things—his hometown, his dog, the song he hated hearing in the truck—anything to keep him focused on something...
Part 2
General Sterling slowly pushed his heavy chair back. The harsh sound echoed like a gunshot in the deafening, uncomfortable silence of the dining room. He stood up, an imposing figure of undeniable military authority, his sharp gaze never wavering from my marginalized position by the kitchen door.
"General," my mother stammered nervously, her manufactured hostess smile faltering as she...
Part 2
General Hale stopped beside my chair. The room held its breath.
“Major Drummond,” he said, “why are you sitting back here?”
My mother’s hand slipped from my arm. Bryce’s face lost its color.
“I was told this seat was available,” I replied.
“It isn’t.” General Hale turned toward the guests. “Everyone, please stand.”
Chairs scraped across the floor. One by one, the guests...
Part 1
My name is Clare Lancaster Dayton, and when the crack of Nicholas’s open palm struck my cheekbone, the entire grand ballroom of Chicago’s Drake Hotel went dead silent. The force spun me sideways, my nine-month pregnant belly slamming against the mahogany balustrade. Gasps ripped through three hundred high-society guests and charity donors, but Nicholas didn’t blink. His breathing...
Part 1
My name is Clare Lancaster Dayton, eight months pregnant, and five seconds away from losing everything. Right now, on the polished marble floor of the Drake Hotel’s grand ballroom in downtown Chicago, a circle of cameras is aimed at my face. Standing across from me is my husband, Nicholas Dayton, tech billionaire, darling of Wall Street, and the...
