Teach Me How To Forget You

Chapter 1Danielle's POV:From where I stood near the long glass windows overlooking the ocean, I could seethe last rays of the California sun melting into the horizon while a string quartetplayed something low and romantic.It was perfect! Every detail was exactly the way I’d imagined it.I brushed an invisible speck from my champagne-colored gown and exhaled slowly.Tonight wasn’t just our third wedding anniversary. Tonight, I was going to changeeverything between Barry and me.For years, I had hidden who I really was. To the world and to my own husband I wasDanielle Jules, the quiet, supportive wife of a rising businessman.In reality, I was Madam Ellele… the name whispered in boardrooms, the investorwho could make or break a company with a single call. And I had been his biggestinvestor. The very reason his struggling start-up didn’t collapse two years ago.And he never knew.Not because I didn’t trust him, but because trust was dangerous in my world. My latefather

Chapter 3Danielle's POV:“I’m not apologizing to her.” I yelled.On the other end of the prison phone, Barry didn’t even sound surprised. “You will,Danielle. You’ll call Victoria, confess, and beg her to forgive you.”I let out a humorless laugh. “Forgive me? For what? For walking into a hotel roomand finding her screwing my husband?”“This is the only way to fix it.” He said finally. “You apologize to Victoria, she dropsthe charges, you come home.”The line went dead. He’d hung up. Again.I stood there for a second, breathing hard, before the guard barked. “Time’s up.”I pleaded for another phone call, but I was rudely reminded that I had made anothercall to Rue, my best friend and assistant to get me the best lawyer in California (Theonly one person who knew I was Madam Elle).I was rudely taken back to a private cell where I was once again locked up. I satmyself on the floor and wondered how I had gotten to this point. One minute I washandcuffed to the hospital bed wondering

Chapter 5Danielle's POV: FIVE YEARS LATERCalifornia smelt the same, but I wasn’t the same woman who had left five years ago.The Danielle Jules who’d been dragged through betrayal, humiliation, and the edgesof death no longer existed.The woman stepping out of the black Rolls Royce in front of Reese Tower wassmarter, richer, and infinitely more dangerous. Dressed in a custom made black silkwith a slit high enough to turn heads.The paparazzi swarmed the entrance of Reese INC.’s grand opening, their camerasclicking like a chorus of hungry insects. But I walked through them like someonewho owned the room before she even entered it.“Miss Jules.” Alexander Reese said, stepping forward with that practiced billionairesmile. America’s youngest trillionaire, the man whose tech empire stretched acrosscontinents, and the only person in this building who truly knew my story. “Ready tomake history?”I smirked. “Always.”Inside, champagne flowed, violins played, and the elite of the