My Dead Husband Returned With Another Woman

Three years after I buried an empty casket for my husband, I found him alive in a grocery store parking lot.

He was rubbing a stranger's pregnant belly, smiling a soft smile I had never seen in our years of marriage.

My husband, the ruthless Don of Chicago, had become "Arthur," a gentle man with no memory of the empire he ruled or the wife he left behind.

To protect his happiness, I swallowed my agony and lied.

"I am his cousin," I told his pregnant fiancée, Mia.

I brought them home to his estate, enduring the torture of watching him give her the tenderness that used to belong to me.