ManyWriters

I never imagined the first time I’d see Anderson’s face consumed by raw desire would be in his research lab.
His assistant was pinned under him, locked in a heated kiss, their frantic movements sending papers flying and making a total mess of his desk.
"You're married. We shouldn't be doing this."
When they finally pulled apart, Katelyn’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, a wounded look on her face.
Anderson’s throat bobbed, his voice low and throbbing with desire. "Don’t you know perfectly well who my wife is?"
"She’s just a damn prop I married to get the research funding. Stiff, boring—she can’t hold a candle to you, not even a little bit."
A satisfied smile spread across Katelyn's face at his words. Their lips crashed together again, clothes ending up strewn all over the floor.
I remember this one time, my mom was in a horrible car wreck. I’d burst into his lab, completely ignoring the rules, just begging him to donate blood. And Anderson? He slapped me, hard, right across the face, in front of everybody.
"If your mother’s life puts my experimental data at risk, then the hope for every sick kid with a heart problem in this whole damn country is shot to hell!"So, the man who always pontificated about his 'noble' ideals could also stoop to every filthy deed imaginable in that so-called 'sacred' lab of his.
I silently slipped the diamond ring off my ring finger.
This marriage... maybe it was a mistake from the very start.

Husband Betrayed Me, I Chose to Withdraw My Investment

Early the next morning, news spread that Anderson's Lab was publicly seeking funding.


The Davidson Institute had already made successful breakthroughs, who would pour big money into a lab that hadn't shown any progress in years?


This news, if anything, just further confirmed what the public was already guessing: Anderson’s team had been completely left in the dust by Davidson.


After all, even his own wife had pulled her funding—who else would trust them?


When I got home from work that evening, I found Anderson sitting on my living room sofa.


In just a single day, he looked like he’d aged ten years.


Untrimmed stubble shadowed his jaw, a sickly bluish-gray.


I glanced out the window, the sky was still bright.


Anderson hadn't been home this early in probably three years.


"Well? Did today's fundraising go smoothly?"


He bit his lip. "You probably already know how it went."


Chapter 7