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The NEREID Account

Author: Tamara Love
last update publish date: 2026-04-28 20:47:57

Lauren’s POV

The next morning came too fast and too cold.

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that warehouse again—the rusted beams, the woman with the sharp blonde hair, and those fifty fucking days ticking down like a bomb strapped to my chest. Serena was alive. She had made some kind of deal. And now someone else wanted Julian’s offshore money bad enough to drag me into it.

Julian didn’t ask how I slept. He just walked into the bedroom at six-thirty, already dressed in a blac
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  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Serena’s First Move

    Serena's POVI adjusted the cuff of my blouse in the mirror of the bedroom, the one I'd claimed as a temporary powder room because the master suite still felt like enemy territory. Julian's cold shoulder was starting to get on my nerves more than I cared to admit. Three weeks back in this penthouse, playing the dutiful wife to a man who looked at me like I was a pain in his ass, and I was already itching to burn it all down.My phone buzzed on the marble counter. It was Vivian. Of course. The message was short, cryptic, and fucking typical of her.'Access the backup terminal in his study. The NEREID proxy codes are active. Start small. Shell accounts only. No traces.'I deleted it immediately, my heart suddenly beating rapidly. This wasn't some amateur smash-and-grab. Vivian had drilled it into me during those weeks in her "holding arrangement"–how to move money swiftly. Julian's empire was a fortress, but even fortresses had entrances if you knew where to knock.I slipped the phone i

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Enemy of My Enemy

    Lauren’s POV I slipped out of the east wing just after midnight, my sneakers quiet on the marble. The penthouse felt like a damn pressure cooker these days. Serena gliding around like she owned the place again, flashing those fake smiles at Julian while her eyes stayed dead cold. And Julian... God, Julian. He watched everything like a shark circling blood in the water, but he still didn’t remember me. Not the way that mattered.My hand drifted to my stomach out of habit. The baby was still a secret I guarded tighter than anything. I couldn’t risk Serena or Vivian finding out. Hell, half the time I wasn’t sure Julian would even believe me if I told him right now.I took the elevator down to the garage level. I needed air that didn’t taste like lies. The underground lot was dim, I was heading for one of the fleet SUVs so I could take a drive when I noticed a shadow moved near the pillar.I froze, my heart slamming against my chest. My fingers curled around the small knife I kept in my

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Silas’s New Mission

    Silas’s POV I stared at the cracked hospital ceiling for what felt like the hundredth fucking time that day, the sterile smell of antiseptic burning my nostrils. The doctors thought I was still playing the amnesia card, but my head was clearer than it had been in weeks. Stage four glioblastoma. Three months, maybe four if I was lucky. The bullets had just sped up the clock. Funny how dying makes everything crystal fucking clear.Vivian Moreau was the real snake in the grass. I'd pieced it together from the whispers Marcus let slip during his visits and the burner phone I'd kept hidden under my mattress. Julian's empire was crumbling because of her, and Serena? That overly pampered bitch was dancing right in the middle of it. If I was going out, I wasn't doing it quietly. Not while Lauren was still tangled up in this mess.I grabbed the disposable phone from the drawer, the one with the private line that cost me a favor from an old contact outside the Cross network. My fingers hovered

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    A Familiar Pull

    Julian’s POV I was losing my fucking mind, and I didn't know why.Every time I walked into a room in this goddamn penthouse, my eyes did the same thing. They scanned the corners, the hallways, the kitchen counter–looking for her. Not Serena. It was never Serena. My wife was usually exactly where she belonged, draped in some expensive designer clothes, smiling that perfect, rehearsed smile that suddenly made my skin crawl.No, I was looking for the twin. Lauren."Julian? Are you listening to me?"Serena’s high and smooth voice cut through my thoughts. She was sitting across from me at the long dining table, poking at a salad."Yeah," I lied, keeping my eyes on my tablet. "You were talking about the charity gala next week.""The Aurelia Trust event," she corrected, her tone carrying that slight edge of annoyance she always hid behind a pout. "It’s important we show a united front, especially after everything that happened with the security breach. People are talking.""Let them talk, I

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Interrogation

    Julian’s POVThe study was lit up with the amber glow of the desk lamp, a sharp contrast to the icy coldness radiating from the man sitting behind it. I watched her–my wife. She stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, her silhouette looking perfect against the Seattle skyline."Serena," I said, my voice barely a whisper in the silence.She turned. Her eyes held mine with a terrifying, steady calm. "Yes, Julian?""I’ve been thinking," I said, leaning back, making the leather chair creaking under me. "My memory of the weeks before you returned is… fragmented. A black hole, if you will call it that. But I have a habit of noticing when a puzzle piece doesn't fit the picture."She didn't flinch. She just tilted her head, a gesture so practiced it almost annoyed me. "You’ve been through a trauma, Julian. The doctors said–""Fuck the doctors," I cut her off in a flat tone that was devoid of the heat that usually fueled my temper. I was actually fascinated. She was playing the role of my wif

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Serena's Performance Cracks

    Julian’s POV My patience was a fucking running thin, and it was running out a hell of a lot faster than Serena expected.Ever since she came back, she’d been acting like the woman I remembered marrying, the one who treated our relationship like a cold, legally binding contract. She was prepared for that version of me. She was prepared for the distant, predictable husband who didn't give a shit what she did as long as she didn't embarrass my name.But she wasn't prepared for the man I was now.I couldn't explain it, and it was driving me fucking insane. It felt like though my brain had been wiped clean of the last several months, but my body hadn't received the memo. My instincts rebelled against her. Every time she reached out to touch my shoulder, every time she flashed that perfectly practiced smile, my skin crawled. It felt fake. A cheap goddamn performance, and every single nerve in my body was screaming at me to push her away.I didn't want performed warmth. For some reason, my

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    Behind Closed Doors

    CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVELAUREN’S POVBy the time I got back to the penthouse, my head was a mess.Father Paul’s words would not leave me alone.It just kept playing in circles until I felt like I would lose my mind.I stepped out of the elevator and saw him immediately.Silas was standing near the bar

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Test

    CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO LAUREN’S POV I yanked my shirt up from the floor with shaking hands and glared at Julian through the mess he had made of me. “You disgusting bastard.” He set the gun down on the desk like it was nothing. “I’ve been called worse,” he said. “By people still alive?” Hi

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Trigger

    CHAPTER THIRTY-ONELAUREN’S POV I sat across from Elena Ian in a sterile, overpriced café in the center of the city. Elena asked to meet and while it was the hardest thing having to pretend like Serena to her friend, I got information from her. Apparently, Serena has a male friend who was always t

  • His Wrong Wife, His Right Obsession    The Muzzle Between Us

    CHAPTER THIRTYLAUREN’S POVThe car ride to Julian’s headquarters felt like a trap closing in slow motion. I sat in the passenger seat of his black SUV, fingers twisting the hem of the black pencil skirt Nancy had laid out for me this morning. Julian hadn’t said much since breakfast, just that one

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