Chapter 1
After my husband’s brother died unexpectedly, his widow found out she was pregnant.
The next day, my husband Blake Prescott brought her into our home against my wishes.
“Vic. She needs us right now. It’s better for the baby.”
His so called discussion sounded more like an order I couldn’t argue with.
From that day on, she’d wait outside the bathroom door with a towel whenever my husband showered and said “I used to dry your brother’s hair. Without this, I can’t sleep. Bad for the baby.”
She’d also barge into our bedroom at night, whimpering “Sorry. Nightmares. I’m so scared alone. Stress hurts the baby.”
One day, the moment my husband got home, she actually complained about swollen feet and asked him to rub them.
I watched my husband–this tough, no–nonsense guy at work–immediately take her feet and start massaging them without a word.
I called my dad:
“Dad. I want a divorce. Kill all the Prescott deals.”
“Vic, sweetheart, you’ve only been married six months! And weren’t you the one crying your eyes out, practically begging us to let you marry Blake?”
I totally get why Dad’s so stunned.
Everyone in Manhattan knows I was the one who chased after Blake Prescott like lovesick puppy.
Landing Blake as my husband? That took years of me putting myself out there.
I could handle Blake not being in love with me yet. Love takes time.
But I couldn’t accept Blake being cold to me all the time, except when we’re in bed, yet he’ll do absolutely anything for another woman right in front of me.
Even more unacceptable: that woman is his sister–in–law.
I told Dad everything that’s been going down since the day Blake brought Amber home to our place.
Halfway through my story, my usually chill father straight–up cursed.
Jesus Christ, Vic, stop right there,” he cut me off, his voice shaking with rage.“I’m so pissed I can barely think straight!
Give me a couple days to sort out our business dealings with the Prescotts. I swear that little punk is gonna regret treating my daughter like this!”
After he hung up, I felt this huge weight lift off my chest.
ust one more month, right?
After a while, Blake pushed open the door of my room.
When he came in, I’m painting my nails. The scent of peach lingers at my nose.
For once, I wasn’t jumping up to fawn all over him the second he appeared. Instead, I just kept humming along to myself.
Suddenly, our bedroom door got pushed wide open by Amber.
she had this big smile plastered on her face, like she was about to say something, but then she practically stumbled backward.
She slapped her hand over her nose and snapped, “Ugh, what’s that smell?”
know pregnant women can’t handle strong chemical smells.
So even though I can’t stand Amber, I never would’ve painted my nails in front of her on purpose.
23.03
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napter 1
Before, I put up with all her crap because of Blake..
But now? When I’m literally planning to ditch Blake anyway, why the hell should I tolerate her acting all disgusted and entitled?
“Hello? You know doors have knocks for a reason, right?”
I beat Amber to the punch, speaking first.
She looked totally caught off guard, then gave this awkward little laugh.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Victoria! I just needed to talk to Blake about something, and he walked away so fast that I… I wasn’t thinking straight. That’s totally my bad.”
I was about to let her have it when Blake’s cold voice drifted out from the bathroom.
“Amber, just give me ten minutes.”
Right after that, he said in a sharp tone:
“Victoria! Get rid of that toxic shit away RIGHT NOW!”
I completely lost it:
“Are you kidding me?! I can’t even do what I want in my own bedroom? Blake, I AM your wife!”
Amber shot me this smug little smirk, then turned toward the bathroom and called out in her sickeningly sweet voice:
“Blake, sweetie, Victoria’s just being a little childish – you know how she gets. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed here today. Please, don’t argue with her because of
me…”
Amber grew up in foster care and met Blake’s older brother Connor in college.
The Prescott family was totally against their relationship, but they got married anyway right after graduation.
Before Blake brought her to crash at our place, I actually respected the hell out of this woman.
She literally came from nothing, worked her ass off to get educated, and somehow charmed her way into one of Manhattan’s most exclusive families.
But ever since Amber’s been living here? Every time we butt heads about anything, she pulls this “poor little Victoria doesn’t know any better” act with Blake.
After dealing with this crap for weeks, whenever I get even slightly annoyed with Amber, Blake jumps down my throat with “God, Victoria, can you maybe not
hrow a tantrum for once?”
Like I’m some unhinged drama queen.
My mom passed away when I was little, but Dad absolutely spoiled me growing up.
All my friends are the same way – we keep it real with each other.
So when it comes to dealing with someone like Amber–you know, one of those fake–sweet, two–faced types–I always end up getting played and can’t even say hit about it.
But I’m done playing her games.
Blake walked out of the bathroom and saw me still doing my nails. His face, which was already completely emotionless, somehow got even colder:
‘Did you not hear what I just said?”
I didn’t even glance up, just fired back:
‘Oh, I heard you. Question is–why the hell would I listen?”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.