Ninety-Nine Letters, A Thousand Lies

On our third anniversary, I found ninety-nine love letters my husband wrote.

None of them were for me.

They were for Kennedy, the woman who stole my award-winning design years ago, the woman he swore he was over.

His letters spoke of a soul-deep connection, a passion I'd only ever dreamed of.

Then, my best friend called from the airport. She saw him there, with Kennedy, locked in a Hollywood-style embrace.

He wasn't just cheating. This was a long-con.

He'd married me to silence me, using my DNA to help Kennedy fraudulently claim the inheritance of the powerful Olsen family-an inheritance that was rightfully mine.

He canceled my credit cards, renounced his citizenship, and secretly married her in France, all while I played the part of the loving wife.

When I tried to fight back, he had me drugged, imprisoned, and nearly drowned, all to protect his precious Kennedy.

He thought he had erased me, a mere footnote in their grand story.

But he made one fatal mistake.

He didn't know I was the real Olsen heiress.

And I was coming back to claim everything he stole.