The Unwanted Wife's Secret Comeback

The glow of the MacBook screen illuminated Audrey's face in the dark Manhattan penthouse study. She dragged the digital stylus across the drawing tablet, her fingers cramping from three hours of uninterrupted work. The digital lines formed the latest heroine of her 'Cotton Candy' comic series.

Suddenly, the heavy oak double doors of the study clicked open.

Audrey's heart slammed against her ribs. She frantically hit a shortcut key, blanking the drawing tablet's screen, before snapping the MacBook shut. The sharp clack of the aluminum casing echoed in the quiet room. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat as she shoved the laptop and the darkened tablet under a stack of blank printer paper, cutting off the risk of her secret identity being exposed.

Dozier pushed the doors wide open. A draft of chilled air from the hallway swept into the room, raising goosebumps on Audrey's bare arms. Her shoulders locked into place.

He walked in, his expensive Tom Ford suit jacket dangling from his grip. He tossed it carelessly onto her pristine white leather sofa. It was a physical invasion of her only safe space in the penthouse. Audrey's stomach twisted with a familiar, sickening knot of resistance.

Audrey pushed her chair back and stood up. She smoothed the front of her silk skirt, trying to maintain the dignity of the lady of the house.

Dozier stopped in the center of the room. His cold, unblinking stare pinned her to the spot. A wave of humiliation washed over her skin, hot and uncomfortable.

He reached up and loosened his silk tie with a sharp tug. "Blake is moving in tomorrow."

The words dropped like a physical weight in the room. Audrey's pupils contracted. Her lungs forgot how to pull in air.

"Without discussing it with me first?" Audrey asked. Her voice shook, but she forced herself to meet his eyes, fighting for an equal footing in this marriage.

Dozier let out a low, humorless laugh.

"This penthouse belongs to the Hodge family," Dozier said. His voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.

The reminder of her lack of ownership stripped away her right to refuse. Audrey bit down hard on her lower lip, the metallic taste of blood blooming on her tongue.

"I am still recovering," Audrey said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It has only been a year since the miscarriage. I need quiet."

She hoped the mention of their lost child would trigger some basic human sympathy.

Dozier rolled his eyes, cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hand. "Stop using an accident to play the victim, Audrey. It's exhausting."

His accusation twisted the knife in her gut. Her heart plummeted, hitting the floor of her stomach.

Audrey took a deep, jagged breath. She wanted to scream that it wasn't an accident. She wanted to tell him that Blake had pushed her down those stairs. Instead, she dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of her palms until crescent-shaped red marks appeared. She kept