His Unwanted Wife, The Nation's Hero

The heavy brass handle of the Manhattan penthouse door felt cold against Cilla's palm.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the foyer.

Today was her wedding anniversary. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing, convincing herself that the recent distance between her and Jace was just a phase.

Before she could even take off her coat, the sound of bright, ringing laughter drifted from the living room.

It was a woman's laugh.

Cilla's stomach dropped. The muscles in her jaw tightened instantly.

She slipped off her coat, hanging it on the rack with slow, deliberate movements. She took a deep breath, forcing her heart rate to steady.

"Oh, Jace, it's absolutely stunning. The vintage cut is so unique," the woman's voice cooed.

It was Carolyn.

Cilla's blood turned to ice water in her veins. She walked briskly down the hallway, her low heels making no sound on the imported marble floor.

She stepped into the living room. Her eyes immediately locked onto Carolyn's neck.

Resting against Carolyn's collarbone was a silver pendant, shaped like a teardrop with a subtle, intricate engraving on the back.

Cilla's chest seized. Her lungs forgot how to pull in air.

That was her mother's necklace. The only thing recovered from the explosion that took her parents' lives.

Jace stood next to the marble kitchen island, a relaxed smile on his face. He popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured it into two crystal flutes.

He didn't even look up to acknowledge Cilla's presence.

Cilla closed the distance between them in three long strides.

"Take it off," Cilla said. Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.

Carolyn gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a perfectly practiced gesture of shock. "Oh! Cilla, you're home early. I'm so sorry, we were just..."

Jace finally turned around. His smile vanished, replaced by a deep frown.

"What is wrong with you?" Jace demanded, setting the champagne bottle down hard. "You walk in here and immediately start ruining the mood. Have some manners."

Cilla pointed a rigid finger at Carolyn's chest. "I said, take that necklace off right now."

Carolyn's eyes welled up with tears instantly. Her lower lip trembled as she looked up at Jace, shrinking her shoulders to appear smaller.

"Jace, I... I didn't know it was hers," Carolyn whispered, her voice cracking.

Jace stepped squarely in front of Carolyn, using his broad shoulders to block Cilla's view.

"Stop acting crazy, Cilla," Jace said, his tone dripping with condescension. "It was just sitting in a dusty box in the guest room. It's a cheap piece of junk. Carolyn liked it, so I gave it to her."

A harsh, bitter laugh scraped its way out of Cilla's throat.

"A cheap piece of junk?" Cilla repeated, her fingernails digging into her own palms until the skin nearly broke. "That is the recovered property of a fallen CIA operative. It was my mother's."

Jace blinked. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, but his pride