Mr. Billionaire, Your Wife Is Playing You!

"I'm at the St. Regis, honey. Just checked in twenty minutes ago," Zachary’s voice came through the speaker. He sounded calm and perfectly natural.Before I could ask anything, the call switched to video. Zachary’s face filled the screen. He looked as handsome as ever—sharp jawline, warm brown eyes, and that slight smile that always made my heart race. But it was the background that made me stop breathing.He wasn’t at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan like the news broadcast had shown. He was in a luxury room with classic mahogany wood, elegant gold lighting, and a thick navy-gold carpet. Behind him, a white bathrobe with gold embroidery lay on the king-size bed: The St. Regis Chicago.He wore the same white shirt he’d left in, just without the tie and with the top two buttons open. His dark brown hair was slightly messy from the trip, which only made him look better.“See? My secretary picked a room with a view of the Chicago River,” Zachary said, panning the camera toward the glittering

"Mommy? Is my bear there?" Zoe’s tiny voice from the second row broke the silence that had been ringing in my ears."Mrs. Rhea? Do you need help back there?" Bruna, sitting right next to Zoe, turned to look toward the gap between the seats.My blood ran cold. From my half-crouching position in the third row, I could see the reflection of Zachary’s brown eyes in the rearview mirror. He was preparing to turn around.Hide it. Now!My left hand groped blindly toward the other corner, and luckily, my fingertips brushed against the soft fur of my daughter’s teddy bear."I-it’s here, Sweetie! Here’s the bear," I said, my voice wavering, but I cleared my throat loudly and forced the most natural smile I could muster as I crawled back to the second row and handed the toy to Zoe.Zachary watched me in the rearview mirror, his thick brows furrowed in concern. "You look so pale, my Angel. Coming down with something?"I met my husband’s gaze—the eyes of an agnostic man willing to sit in church for