~Jasmine
My husband, Ian, is married to his work. At least, that’s the lie he tells me every time a meeting stretches into the night or my calls go straight to voicemail.
In all honesty, I don't care what he does with his time, as long as he isn't f*****g his team lead in the executive suite of my father's hotel. But he is. And I'm watching the high-definition live feed on my bedroom TV right now.
Ian has always been a fool, but he’s a pretty one. That’s the only reason I married the son of a b***h—for his looks. He never knew how to be anything other than a trophy, and I don't respect him in the slightest.
The doorbell rang from downstairs. It was Daniel, Ian’s boss. He’s been trying to get into my bed for months, and today was his lucky day. When I opened the door, he looked like a
