I Became My Husbands Smart House
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Summary
I have been dead for three years.
Every single day, Donovan drops to his knees in front of my urn, pressing his forehead against the mahogany wood. All of Boston high society talks about his undying devotion. They call him a tragic romantic.
None of them know that in the final fraction of a second before the car went over the cliff, he let go of my hand.
The smart mansion I designed from the ground up has been running flawlessly for three years.
Its name is Ivy.
Every day, Donovan barks orders into the empty air. "Ivy, lights out." "Ivy, get Corinne’s bathrobe ready."





