And I’m here… listening to Francia complain about the accommodations she stole from Cora.
Without looking at my unwelcome bride, I grab my phone and fire off a text to Cora’s burner number.
It’s me. Use this phone if you need it. I’m here.
I want Cora to know she isn’t alone. No matter how she feels right now, I’m going to come for her. I’m going to get her out of there.
When I look up, smoke might as well be pouring out of Francia’s ears. “There is more to a life than amenities, Ivan,” she spits. “I don’t care what the thread count of my sheets are if you can’t even make it through a single conversation with me without grabbing your phone. I don’t care about a jacuzzi tub if no one in this f*****g mansion respects my role as your wife.”
“Yet,” she hisses. “We aren’t married yet. But
