JENSYN
It's been two days since I married Linden and I wouldn't say my life had been any better.
Sure, I slept on the sleek sheets and drank wine that was probably worth two thousand dollars per bottle. I wore dresses I didn't own and sat across from a man most women would kill to be seen with. But it was all a show. Married life didn't suit me well.
The mansion had been so eerily quiet I could hear my footsteps most of the time I walked. I didn't ask Linden if he found out who leaked my picture. I saw it in his eyes—he knew who did it. But he said nothing. And I didn’t ask. That was the rule in our arrangement: act the part, keep your mouth shut, don’t get too close.
So I played my role. The perfect wife. I ate breakfast before he even came downstairs. I gave polite smiles in the hall
