The spare bedroom at the end of the hall had been Elara’s sanctuary since the day they moved into the penthouse. It was supposed to be a nursery. When a year had passed with no pregnancy, Julian had suggested she use it for her architecture models, a hollow consolation prize for the career she had p

The scent of seared garlic and rosemary hit Elara the moment she stepped out of the private elevator and into the penthouse.

She paused in the foyer, her hand resting instinctively over her flat stomach. Nausea churned in her throat, a persistent reminder of the secret she carried, but she swallow

The Thorne Industries Annual Philanthropic Gala was the crown jewel of New York’s high society season. It was a night of billion-dollar handshakes, blinding camera flashes, and ruthless social posturing.

Traditionally, Elara dreaded it. For the last three years, her role had been to wear whatever