Chasing His Runaway Wife
I was the footstool, and they were the throne untouchable, perfect, lightyears above me.
I fixed my gaze firmly on the floor, refusing to meet their eyes any longer. I didn’t want to be an eyesore in their perfect home.
“Sit down.”
The voice was elegant, calm, and held the weight of authority but I didn’t dare move. I assumed she was talking to Carlo, telling him to take his place beside them, far away from me.
“Daughter-in-law. I said sit. This is your home now too.”
It was his father who spoke this time firm, but not unkind. My head snapped up so fast I almost got dizzy, my eyes blown wide in utter shock. Did I hear that right? Did he just call me… daughter-in-law?
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