His Enemy, My Husband
Now, she was nothing.
A horn blared across the street.
Vanessa spun, startled, as a sleek black car rolled to a stop beside her. The tinted window lowered, and a pale hand extended, holding an umbrella.
Clarissa Blackwood stepped out, flawless in her tailored brown coat, her lips curved in that cold smile.
“My, my,” Clarissa said smoothly. “How the mighty have fallen.”
Vanessa froze, shivering in the rain. “What do you want?”
“I want to help you,” Clarissa purred, moving closer, shielding her with the umbrella. “You don’t belong here, dripping wet like a stray dog. You belong with people who understand power. Who can give you back everything you lost.”
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