Chapter 65
JOAN’S POV It’s strange how quickly you can go from a nobody to the headline. I used to wake up to the sound of my neighbor’s dog barking or the garbage truck rumbling down the alley. Now, it’s the flash of a camera outside my window or thousand of i********: notifications. The paparazzi have no mercy. I once caught a man practically hanging from a tree just to get a picture of me sipping coffee in a cafe. The Billionaire’s Bride, they call me. As if my name—Joan—has evaporated into something shinier, more sellable. Inside this mansion, though, it doesn’t feel shiny. It feels... hollow. The chandelier in the entrance hall is worth more than everything I’ve ever owned. My reflection catches in polished marble floors and golden frames too often—I barely recognize myself. The woman with h
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