After her marriage, Elena Harper became the Upper East Side’s “model wife.” Her husband, Ryan Sterling, kept as many mistresses as he wanted. She never made a scene. The other society wives called her a saint. But no one knew she was only surviving because of his face. And now, she was getting ready to leave too. ...... “Elena, your Alex isn’t dead. He’s in a high-security hospital in Switzerland. Been in a coma for three years.” “His real name is Alex Sterling, the eldest son of the Sterling family.” “He’s your husband’s twin brother. The Sterlings went to visit him a few days ago.” When Elena saw the messages from her friend Megan Davis, her mind went blank, as if it had short-circuited. Her Alex… wasn’t dead? And he was Ryan’s twin brother? Before she could process the news, her phone buzzed again. She answered, and Ryan’s low, cold voice cut through the line. “Bacchus Bar. Get here. Now.” Elena took a cab to the bar, the wind whipping past the window seeming to scatter her thoughts. She had been married to Ryan Sterling, the second son of New York’s formidable Sterling family, for three years. For three years, she had come whenever he called and left whenever he dismissed her. She obeyed his every command. Even when he’d demanded she bring him condoms, she never uttered a word of complaint. All of New York called her generous to a fault. No one knew it was only because of Ryan’s face. The car stopped. Elena had just reached the private room when, through the half-open door, she saw Ryan pinning a waitress—all wide eyes and innocence—against the wall. His deep, liquor-rough voice held a coaxing edge. “You really won’t come home with me?” The woman looked him straight in the eye. “Mr. Sterling, please let me go. You’re a married man. I don’t get into trouble I can’t afford.” Elena recognized the woman. Lily Foster. Ryan’s latest obsession. Unlike the polished heiresses in their circl......
