From Mistress to Mrs. Sullivan

My half-sister, Claire, stood in the town square, her dramatically broken engagement a public spectacle.

Her tears flowed freely, a performance of distraught innocence she'd perfected.

I watched, a familiar chill settling in my chest.

This was exactly how it started last time.

Shortly after, my fiancé, Ethan Prescott, found me.

His handsome face was etched with practiced concern.

He declared he had to marry Claire to save her reputation, then coolly promised I'd still be his—his mistress in the shadows.