From Discarded Wife To Scent Queen

My husband, the ruthless Underboss of the Ewing crime family, was terrified of one thing: his dead fiancée’s memory.

Or rather, her living sister, Ivana, who used that memory to turn my life into a living hell.

To "apologize" for humiliating me at a gala, Corbett brought me a peace offering: a green macaron.

"Pistachio," he promised. "Your favorite."

I took one bite, and my throat instantly seized. It felt like barbed wire tightening around my windpipe.

It wasn't pistachio. It was almond paste.

Corbett knew I was deadly allergic. He used to carry my EpiPen on our first dates.