Justin Wade Kelly

I’d been a divorce attorney for six years. That night, I was doing a live Q&A on Instagram when a girl joined the stream, her voice honey-sweet. “Hi, can I ask you something?” “I’ve fallen for a married man. His wife doesn’t know yet.” “I want him to divorce her and marry me. Any advice?” I smiled into the camera. “Find someone else.” She paused, then laughed along with me. “Meredith, don’t be so formal. You’ve handled so many divorce cases. You must know a few tricks.” She propped her chin on her hand, her tone breezy. “Like, how do you get the wife to give up her share of the marital assets and just walk away?” I stared at the exquisitely made-up face in the small video window. “Why do you ask?” She blinked. “No reason. Just curious.” “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself.” “My name is Laney. I’m your husband’s assistant.” “He’s staying at my place tonight, by the way. He won’t be home until morning, so you don’t have to wait up.” ... The comment section exploded. I watched the messages blur as they scrolled up the screen. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity. Then I smiled. “Laney, is it? Thank you for letting me know.” “But you’re wrong about one thing.” “Legally, as long as we haven’t finalized the paperwork at the County Clerk’s Office, he is still my husband.” “Where he sleeps tonight is irrelevant.” “I’ve handled a lot of cases. I’ve seen more than one person lose their marriage, their job, and their reputation over an affair.” “Good night.” I ended the livestream. My hand was still on the mouse, shaking violently. My phone rang. It was Darragh. I stared at the name flashing on the screen and was suddenly six years in the past, meeting him for the first time. I had just passed the bar and was interning at my mentor’s firm. Darragh was a partner on the adjacent team, eight years my senior. My mentor said he was going to go far. The first ti......

I’d been a divorce attorney for six years. That night, I was doing a live Q&A on Instagram when a girl joined the stream, her voice honey-sweet. “Hi, can I ask you something?” “I’ve fallen for a married man. His wife doesn’t know yet.” “I want him to divorce her and marry me. Any advice?” I smiled into the camera. “Find someone else.” She paused, then laughed along with me. “Meredith, don’t be so formal. You’ve handled so many divorce cases. You must know a few tricks.” She propped her chin on her hand, her tone breezy. “Like, how do you get the wife to give up her share of the marital assets and just walk away?” I stared at the exquisitely made-up face in the small video window. “Why do you ask?” She blinked. “No reason. Just curious.” “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself.” “My name is Laney. I’m your husband’s assistant.” “He’s staying at my place tonight, by the way. He won’t be home until morning, so you don’t have to wait up.” ... The comment section exploded. I watched the messages blur as they scrolled up the screen. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity. Then I smiled. “Laney, is it? Thank you for letting me know.” “But you’re wrong about one thing.” “Legally, as long as we haven’t finalized the paperwork at the County Clerk’s Office, he is still my husband.” “Where he sleeps tonight is irrelevant.” “I’ve handled a lot of cases. I’ve seen more than one person lose their marriage, their job, and their reputation over an affair.” “Good night.” I ended the livestream. My hand was still on the mouse, shaking violently. My phone rang. It was Darragh. I stared at the name flashing on the screen and was suddenly six years in the past, meeting him for the first time. I had just passed the bar and was interning at my mentor’s firm. Darragh was a partner on the adjacent team, eight years my senior. My mentor said he was going to go far. The first ti......

I’d been a divorce attorney for six years. That night, I was doing a live Q&A on Instagram when a girl joined the stream, her voice honey-sweet. “Hi, can I ask you something?” “I’ve fallen for a married man. His wife doesn’t know yet.” “I want him to divorce her and marry me. Any advice?” I smiled into the camera. “Find someone else.” She paused, then laughed along with me. “Meredith, don’t be so formal. You’ve handled so many divorce cases. You must know a few tricks.” She propped her chin on her hand, her tone breezy. “Like, how do you get the wife to give up her share of the marital assets and just walk away?” I stared at the exquisitely made-up face in the small video window. “Why do you ask?” She blinked. “No reason. Just curious.” “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself.” “My name is Laney. I’m your husband’s assistant.” “He’s staying at my place tonight, by the way. He won’t be home until morning, so you don’t have to wait up.” ... The comment section exploded. I watched the messages blur as they scrolled up the screen. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity. Then I smiled. “Laney, is it? Thank you for letting me know.” “But you’re wrong about one thing.” “Legally, as long as we haven’t finalized the paperwork at the County Clerk’s Office, he is still my husband.” “Where he sleeps tonight is irrelevant.” “I’ve handled a lot of cases. I’ve seen more than one person lose their marriage, their job, and their reputation over an affair.” “Good night.” I ended the livestream. My hand was still on the mouse, shaking violently. My phone rang. It was Darragh. I stared at the name flashing on the screen and was suddenly six years in the past, meeting him for the first time. I had just passed the bar and was interning at my mentor’s firm. Darragh was a partner on the adjacent team, eight years my senior. My mentor said he was going to go far. The first ti......

I’d been a divorce attorney for six years. That night, I was doing a live Q&A on Instagram when a girl joined the stream, her voice honey-sweet. “Hi, can I ask you something?” “I’ve fallen for a married man. His wife doesn’t know yet.” “I want him to divorce her and marry me. Any advice?” I smiled into the camera. “Find someone else.” She paused, then laughed along with me. “Meredith, don’t be so formal. You’ve handled so many divorce cases. You must know a few tricks.” She propped her chin on her hand, her tone breezy. “Like, how do you get the wife to give up her share of the marital assets and just walk away?” I stared at the exquisitely made-up face in the small video window. “Why do you ask?” She blinked. “No reason. Just curious.” “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself.” “My name is Laney. I’m your husband’s assistant.” “He’s staying at my place tonight, by the way. He won’t be home until morning, so you don’t have to wait up.” ... The comment section exploded. I watched the messages blur as they scrolled up the screen. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity. Then I smiled. “Laney, is it? Thank you for letting me know.” “But you’re wrong about one thing.” “Legally, as long as we haven’t finalized the paperwork at the County Clerk’s Office, he is still my husband.” “Where he sleeps tonight is irrelevant.” “I’ve handled a lot of cases. I’ve seen more than one person lose their marriage, their job, and their reputation over an affair.” “Good night.” I ended the livestream. My hand was still on the mouse, shaking violently. My phone rang. It was Darragh. I stared at the name flashing on the screen and was suddenly six years in the past, meeting him for the first time. I had just passed the bar and was interning at my mentor’s firm. Darragh was a partner on the adjacent team, eight years my senior. My mentor said he was going to go far. The first ti......

I’d been a divorce attorney for six years. That night, I was doing a live Q&A on Instagram when a girl joined the stream, her voice honey-sweet. “Hi, can I ask you something?” “I’ve fallen for a married man. His wife doesn’t know yet.” “I want him to divorce her and marry me. Any advice?” I smiled into the camera. “Find someone else.” She paused, then laughed along with me. “Meredith, don’t be so formal. You’ve handled so many divorce cases. You must know a few tricks.” She propped her chin on her hand, her tone breezy. “Like, how do you get the wife to give up her share of the marital assets and just walk away?” I stared at the exquisitely made-up face in the small video window. “Why do you ask?” She blinked. “No reason. Just curious.” “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself.” “My name is Laney. I’m your husband’s assistant.” “He’s staying at my place tonight, by the way. He won’t be home until morning, so you don’t have to wait up.” ... The comment section exploded. I watched the messages blur as they scrolled up the screen. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity. Then I smiled. “Laney, is it? Thank you for letting me know.” “But you’re wrong about one thing.” “Legally, as long as we haven’t finalized the paperwork at the County Clerk’s Office, he is still my husband.” “Where he sleeps tonight is irrelevant.” “I’ve handled a lot of cases. I’ve seen more than one person lose their marriage, their job, and their reputation over an affair.” “Good night.” I ended the livestream. My hand was still on the mouse, shaking violently. My phone rang. It was Darragh. I stared at the name flashing on the screen and was suddenly six years in the past, meeting him for the first time. I had just passed the bar and was interning at my mentor’s firm. Darragh was a partner on the adjacent team, eight years my senior. My mentor said he was going to go far. The first ti......

I was the resident good girl of the Northern packs. So good that even after Damian, the Alpha heir of the Blackwood Pack, left me standing alone at our Luna Ceremony ninety-eight times with the Moon Goddess as our witness, I still forgave him. Every single time. Until our ninety-ninth ceremony, when an anonymous wedding gift of one million dollars arrived. The giant screen that had been looping photos of us suddenly switched to a live feed from an underground auction house. On a red velvet stage, Nora’s throat was smooth and bare, without a single mark, while the auctioneer drove the bidding for her first claiming night up to one million dollars. Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes as she looked into the camera, as if she were saying a final goodbye. “Damian, if I can never be your Luna, then there’s no point in keeping this body you’ve never claimed.” “I only ask that you never forget me.” In that instant, Damian tore off our black-and-gold engagement ring and ran out without looking back. Everyone knew I loved Damian. And everyone knew the only person Damian had ever loved was Nora—the “Omega who saved his life.” Everyone was betting on whether our hundredth Luna Ceremony would ever happen. Only I knew there would be no hundredth time. And I knew Damian would regret it. Because the person who had actually dragged him out of that collapsed mine after the earthquake was me. *** After the last of the guests had left, I made a call overseas. “Does that promise you made me ten years ago still stand?” A low laugh came through the receiver. “It does. Come to me. The doors to Montclair will always be open for you.” By the time I hung up, the news that Damian had wrecked a black-market auction for a woman had already shot to the top of the supernatural social feeds. He had stormed into a private room full of rogues and black-market brokers, paid a twenty-million-dollar penalty to break the contract, and taken Nora away right then and there. Ev......

I was the resident good girl of the Northern packs. So good that even after Damian, the Alpha heir of the Blackwood Pack, left me standing alone at our Luna Ceremony ninety-eight times with the Moon Goddess as our witness, I still forgave him. Every single time. Until our ninety-ninth ceremony, when an anonymous wedding gift of one million dollars arrived. The giant screen that had been looping photos of us suddenly switched to a live feed from an underground auction house. On a red velvet stage, Nora’s throat was smooth and bare, without a single mark, while the auctioneer drove the bidding for her first claiming night up to one million dollars. Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes as she looked into the camera, as if she were saying a final goodbye. “Damian, if I can never be your Luna, then there’s no point in keeping this body you’ve never claimed.” “I only ask that you never forget me.” In that instant, Damian tore off our black-and-gold engagement ring and ran out without looking back. Everyone knew I loved Damian. And everyone knew the only person Damian had ever loved was Nora—the “Omega who saved his life.” Everyone was betting on whether our hundredth Luna Ceremony would ever happen. Only I knew there would be no hundredth time. And I knew Damian would regret it. Because the person who had actually dragged him out of that collapsed mine after the earthquake was me. *** After the last of the guests had left, I made a call overseas. “Does that promise you made me ten years ago still stand?” A low laugh came through the receiver. “It does. Come to me. The doors to Montclair will always be open for you.” By the time I hung up, the news that Damian had wrecked a black-market auction for a woman had already shot to the top of the supernatural social feeds. He had stormed into a private room full of rogues and black-market brokers, paid a twenty-million-dollar penalty to break the contract, and taken Nora away right then and there. Ev......

I was the resident good girl of the Northern packs. So good that even after Damian, the Alpha heir of the Blackwood Pack, left me standing alone at our Luna Ceremony ninety-eight times with the Moon Goddess as our witness, I still forgave him. Every single time. Until our ninety-ninth ceremony, when an anonymous wedding gift of one million dollars arrived. The giant screen that had been looping photos of us suddenly switched to a live feed from an underground auction house. On a red velvet stage, Nora’s throat was smooth and bare, without a single mark, while the auctioneer drove the bidding for her first claiming night up to one million dollars. Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes as she looked into the camera, as if she were saying a final goodbye. “Damian, if I can never be your Luna, then there’s no point in keeping this body you’ve never claimed.” “I only ask that you never forget me.” In that instant, Damian tore off our black-and-gold engagement ring and ran out without looking back. Everyone knew I loved Damian. And everyone knew the only person Damian had ever loved was Nora—the “Omega who saved his life.” Everyone was betting on whether our hundredth Luna Ceremony would ever happen. Only I knew there would be no hundredth time. And I knew Damian would regret it. Because the person who had actually dragged him out of that collapsed mine after the earthquake was me. *** After the last of the guests had left, I made a call overseas. “Does that promise you made me ten years ago still stand?” A low laugh came through the receiver. “It does. Come to me. The doors to Montclair will always be open for you.” By the time I hung up, the news that Damian had wrecked a black-market auction for a woman had already shot to the top of the supernatural social feeds. He had stormed into a private room full of rogues and black-market brokers, paid a twenty-million-dollar penalty to break the contract, and taken Nora away right then and there. Ev......