Cal effin’ Scott.
Hell in a Armani Suit
When I met Cal Scott, I knew he’d be a distraction.
At six-foot-two, with ebony hair, deep gray eyes, and a smile that could only hide an agenda, I knew he was trouble. And for the first time in my life, a little trouble was just what I needed.
No. What I wanted.
It wasn’t like I’d ever marry the guy.
Until I did.
What I thought would be my happily ever after, was only the beginning. Cal has a secret, and I’m terrified the truth will not set me free.
That it will break me.
That it will break us.