Все главы Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine: Глава 1 - Глава 8

Viola McCoy I blink through my tears as I drive back home. A part of me is aching but another part of me isn’t surprised. Julian has had a few scandals with a few women over the years which he always denies. So I shouldn’t even feel anything.My grip tightens around the steering wheel as I step on the gas. The cool night air does nothing to make me feel better. What I should feel though, is the urge to run. But I also know I never will because leaving isn’t an option when you have nowhere to go.No family to run to. A spiteful step mother who wants nothing to do with me would never accept me. And my step siblings are no good either. I could run to my parents but they’re both up there. In heaven, probably watching their daughter settle for less and less everyday.So, yes, I keep driving. Past the streetlights, past my pride, past every version of me that deserved better.When I finally arrive at my home—a spiraling penthouse in the heart of Chicago, I let myself breath. Julian’

Logan Reynolds Viola McCoy still holds her breath when she’s nervous. I shouldn’t have noticed that. Shouldn’t have remembered. But the second I said her name, I saw it—the way her shoulders tensed, the slight hitch in her throat. The way she refused to look at me. I want her to look at me. To say something. The girl I knew would have. She used to joke that her voice was made for radio and her face for the goddamn silver screen. Full lips, high cheekbones, curls that spilled over her tanned shoulders. Blue-gray eyes that always sparked with warmth. Skin that glowed like liquid silk in the sunlight. But that girl is gone. Her hair is straight now even though she used to say she hated straight hair because they were too basic and boring. Her eyes have lost its warmth. She wears crisp white shirts with an expression I can’t quite place.But I see through it. I don’t blame her for pretending I don’t exist. Maybe I don’t, not to her. Three years is a long time. Long e

Viola McCoy The city lights blur past me as I drive back home. It’s past 7pm and the hum of the engine is the only sound in the car. But my mind is loud, louder than ever.Logan is really back.He looks pretty much the same as he did three years ago. They say some people don’t age. He didn’t, he only grew taller with broader shoulders. My insides tighten anytime I remember the image of him from this morning. He was always the prototypical American golden boy with sandy hair, cornflower-blue eyes and a wide grin. But that doesn’t matter now because I’ve spent the whole day pretending he isn’t back. Pretending I didn’t see him, pretending his presence didn’t shake something loose inside me. But no amount of pretending can stop the truth from creeping in. He was there. Standing in front of me. Looking at me like I was some ghost from his past instead of a woman who had learned to survive without him. My phone buzzes in the cupholder. I glance down. Amirah. I already know why she’

Logan Reynolds The second I walked through their door, I knew something was off. Viola barely looked at me, barely spoke. And Julian? He was trying too hard—too many pet names, too many little displays of affection that didn’t feel real. I’ve been around long enough to know that when a man has to prove he owns something, it’s because he’s not sure he owns it. Dinner was a damn performance. Julian putting on a show, Viola sitting there in silence, and me stuck watching something I never should’ve walked into. I shouldn’t have come. Whatever history Viola and I had, it’s clear I just made things worse for her tonight. The last thing I ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable in her own home. And yet… the way she looked at me. The way she didn’t look at Julian. Yeah. Something’s not right.But at least I know why Julian wanted me in his home. I’ve played these games before and I know he just wanted me to see that Viola belongs to him now. But Vi isn’t an object of possessi