His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius

His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius.

NOVEL STATUS: ON GOING

PUBLISHED CHAPTERS: 200+ CHAPTERS

His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius – Sneak Peek

Aurelia Vance POV:

I had been married to Declan Hartford for three years.

Today was my twenty-fifth birthday, and I had flown back from Boston in secret, hoping for one quiet evening with my husband.

I’d spent a week carefully choosing a pair of gold cufflinks as his gift.

But the laughter spilling from the front door told me I was already too late: the woman who had taken my place at his side was already inside. The heavy oak door swung open before I reached the porch. Three young players from the New York Titans, Declan’s NHL franchise, stumbled out with crystal tumblers of scotch, laughing loudly. They barely glanced at me as they passed.

I stepped into the grand foyer. The heat hit me instantly, thick with expensive champagne, roasted tenderloin, and cigar smoke. Dozens of people filled the double parlor: executives, scouts, wives in designer dresses.

In the center stood Declan, tall and broad in a bespoke charcoal suit. Beside him, laughing into his ear, was Sloane Whitfield, her backless silver dress catching the chandelier light. Her hand rested on his forearm as if it belonged there.

Before I could take another breath, a blur of blonde hair darted past my elbow.

“Sloane!” Poppy Delacroix cried, throwing her arms around Sloane’s slender waist. “You were completely right about the catering! This is literally the best victory party the team has ever had!”

оrg𝖺𝘯𝗶𝗓𝗲 yo𝘶𝗋 𝘭ibr𝘢𝘳y о𝗻 g𝖺lո𝗼𝘃еl𝘴.𝘤𝗈m

Poppy was fourteen, a junior elite forward prospect.

I had scouted her two years ago from a crumbling youth league, back when she was at her lowest.

Her parents had once shown me great kindness, and by then they had already passed away, leaving her all alone in the world.

Declan and I adopted her together.

I rebuilt her shattered ankle with a custom rehabilitation plan.

I had always loved and cared for her as both a mother and a sister.

Now, she did not even glance in my direction.

Declan turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd until his eyes locked onto mine. The easy grin on his sharp-jawed face vanished instantly. His brows drew together in a hard, irritated line.

He excused himself from Sloane and cut through the throng of players with long, impatient strides.

“Aurelia,” Declan said, stopping two feet in front of me. His voice carried no warmth at all. “What are you doing here?”

My throat felt like sandpaper.

“I took the four o’clock flight from Boston,” I whispered, clutching the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white. “It’s my birthday, Declan. I thought we could—”

“We’re celebrating the division win,” he cut in, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. “The board is here. The sponsors are here. Sloane spent four straight days coordinating this event so the organization could project stability.”

He did not look at me. His gaze slid past my shoulder to the bar, as if I were a waitress who had wandered into the wrong room.

“Don’t cause a scene,” he added quietly. “Go upstairs.”

A soft, mocking murmur rippled through a cluster of players’ wives standing near the grand staircase. Two women with platinum blowouts exchanged knowing glances over their flutes of Dom Pérignon.

“I didn’t know,” I said, my voice barely audible over the swelling music. “I’m sorry.”

I turned toward the staircase, my legs trembling beneath my wool trousers.

Near the landing, Poppy was adjusting her designer jacket in the hallway mirror.

“Poppy,” I said softly, pausing beside her. “How is your ankle feeling after Thursday’s third period? Did you do the isometric sequence I sent?”

Poppy rolled her eyes and sighed loudly as she pulled out her phone.

“Aurelia, please, not right now,” she muttered without looking at me. “Sloane is introducing me to a marketing director from one of our partners. I don’t have time for your spreadsheets.”

The dismissive edge in her voice hit me harder than Declan’s coldness. I had stayed up until three in the morning reviewing her biomechanical scans while she recovered from surgery, and now I was just an annoyance standing in the way of her social climb.

I walked up the rest of the stairs and into the primary suite—the massive, sterile bedroom allotted to me under our prenuptial agreement.

I sat on the edge of the mattress and took out the velvet box. The gold cufflinks gleamed under the bedside lamp, cold and useless.

Downstairs, cheers erupted. The sound vibrated through the floorboards.

I walked to the French doors overlooking the rear garden. Down on the illuminated patio, Sloane was directing two servers beside an ice sculpture. Declan stood next to her, his head bent as he listened to her, his hand casually brushing the small of her back.

They looked like the couple the city expected them to be.

– Continue in A His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius chapter 1 –