His Wife On Paper
he said toward the end of the meeting, locking eyes with me, “about telling my story. Everything from the ground up—my life, the company, the brand, the truth.”
The investors murmured their interest. One even smiled like it was the greatest idea in the world.
“And I want her,” Kian added, tilting his chin toward me, “to write it.”
I blinked.
“You mean a biography?” someone asked.
“Autobiography,” he corrected. “Written by her. In her voice. Her style. That’s the only way I’ll agree to the full investment.”
The room turned toward me.
I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck.
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