The Billionaire Architect He Called A Housewife

Summary

I found the old phone at the very bottom of Peter Montgomery's safe. It didn't even have a password.

It took three seconds to boot up. But those three seconds were enough to smash my seven-year marriage into dust.

The wallpaper wasn't our wedding photo, but a candid shot of a young woman.

She was sitting at a piano, her profile soft, almost luminous. Peter was standing in the shadows behind her, the deep affection and painful restraint in his eyes so potent they were enough to drown in. That was a Peter I had never met.