The morning sun filtered through the massive glass panes of the estate’s sunroom, casting long, geometric shadows across the drafting table Clara had set up in the corner.

This room used to be her sanctuary. Before she had become the invisible wife of a billionaire, Clara Vance had been a rising s

The massive master bedroom was quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Clara Vance sat in the oversized reading chair in the corner, a leather-bound book open on her lap. She wasn’t reading. Her hand rested gently over her lower abdomen, feeling the barely p

The logistics of disappearing required a cold, mechanical precision that Clara Vance found surprisingly comforting.

Within an hour of Julian’s flight departing the tarmac, a discreet, unmarked moving truck pulled through the estate’s security gates. Clara stood in the center of the master bedroom,