The General's Secret WifeChapter 1

Late at night, my best friend’s voice, hoarse and breathless, came through on a voice message.

"Six-foot-two, eight-pack, a body built by the gods... girl, I've hit the jackpot!"

I got the picture instantly, my heart swelling with a familiar pang of envy for her.

But the next second, when I saw the photo she sent, my entire body went rigid.

In the picture, a man’s bare chest was a canvas of love bites and teeth marks, but the face above it was one seared into my soul.

It was my husband of six years, Major General Eason Pierce.

…

Anna’s voice messages kept coming, a chaotic mix of illicit sounds and her broken, panting words.

"Nina... mmm... we've been... ah... together for three years..."

"He wants... oh... to marry me..."

My mind was a snowstorm of white noise. My hands trembled as I tried to type.

Eason and I had a marriage of convenience, a contract that had expired just last month.

I’d cautiously asked him then if we could maybe not get a divorce.

But Eason had said he didn't want to endanger my daughter and me. He was the youngest Major General on the base, a prime target for terrorists who often went after military families.

So, for six years, no one besides our parents knew he was my husband.

I thought it was his way of protecting us.

Only now did I realize it was all so he could be with the woman he truly loved, out in the open, without a single shadow of complication.

I choked back a sob and managed to ask, "Didn't you say he was a high-ranking officer? Aren't you afraid of retaliation if you marry him?"

Anna sent me a screenshot.

The message, from that all-too-familiar profile picture, contained more words than he’d said to me in the past month.

"Anna, the fact that I'm proposing means I can protect you. I promise."

"If you're worried, I can transfer half of my assets to you right now. And I'll draw up my will. Our child will be my sole heir."

"Anna, I have the most magnificent wedding planned for you. All I need is for you to say yes."

Tears blurred my vision, a sharp pain lancing through my heart.

I remembered our own wedding. To keep it secret, we didn't even take photos. Just a quick, sterile trip to the courthouse.

I remembered giving birth, completely alone, not even daring to write my husband's name on the forms.

I remembered my daughter being taunted in kindergarten, called a pathetic little girl with no dad.

A tide of bitterness and grief washed over me, threatening to pull me under.

Just as I was about to tell Anna that this man, her man, had once signed a marriage certificate with me, another message came through from her. "Nina, let's meet up tomorrow. Our old spot."

Fine. Some things were better said face to face.