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Ninety Days To Break Your Heart Novel Cover

Ninety Days To Break Your Heart

I thought I was living the dream as the wife of a billionaire, until my husband came home at 2 A.M. reeking of expensive Scotch and "Midnight Rose"—the signature perfume of his ex-lover, Lucinda. While I spent my nights alone in the nursery with our sick twins, William was out in the city, making it clear to everyone that our marriage was nothing more than a cold, calculated business merger. When I finally confronted him with the evidence of his infidelity, he didn’t offer an apology. He simply looked at me with disgust and told me I was a "liability" who should stay home and play the part of the perfect mother while he lived his real life with someone else. The humiliation reached its peak at the hospital when his grandfather suffered a massive heart attack. William showed up with Lucinda on his arm, comforting her in front of the entire Sterling clan while his mother publicly mocked me for being a useless gold-digger. Even after William tried to force himself on me in a drunken rage the night before, he had the audacity to treat his mistress like the grieving wife while I was pushed into the shadows. I felt something inside me finally snap. The man I loved had turned into a monster who saw me as an acquisition rather than a human being. I was ready to sign the divorce papers and disappear with nothing but my pride, just to escape the suffocating weight of his indifference. But then, the dying patriarch called me to his bedside and handed me a sword: five percent of the company’s voting shares and a three-month ultimatum. I’m not running away anymore. I’ve decided to stay for ninety days, but not to save a dead marriage. I’m staying to become the one thing William Sterling never saw coming—his most dangerous nightmare.
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Chapter 6

She didn't look at the broken glass. She didn't look at William. She turned and ran to the bedroom.

William followed her to the doorway. She was frantically pulling a dress from the closet. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't manage the zipper.

Arthur Sterling. The only man in this godforsaken family who had treated her like a human being. The only one who remembered her birthday. The only one who defended her against Eleanor.

William watched her panic. His eyes narrowed. The fear in her seemed real, but the cynicism in his heart was a deep, rot-filled root.

"Hurry up," he said coldly.

"I'm trying!" Mia snapped, grabbing her purse. Her eyes were swimming with tears.

"Don't overact, Mia," William said.

Mia froze. She turned slowly to face him. "Excuse me?"

"He hasn't signed the final amendment to the trust yet," William said, leaning against the doorframe. "This display of devotion... your timing is impeccable, isn't it? Hoping the old man sees your tears one last time and adds a few zeros to your name?"

The air left the room.

Mia stared at him. For a moment, she looked like she might hit him. Then, her shoulders slumped, not in defeat, but in sheer exhaustion.

"Not everyone operates like a Sterling, William," she said quietly. "Not everyone sees a dying man and sees a bank account."

She pushed past him.

In the elevator, they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the steel doors. The silence was suffocating.

Down in the garage, the black Lincoln was waiting with the driver holding the door open. They slid into the back seat. The door thudded shut, sealing them in leather-scented intimacy.

The car merged into the Manhattan traffic. Mia stared out the window, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. A tear escaped, tracking silently down her cheek.

William watched her from the corner of his eye.

The grief looked genuine. The trembling looked real.

A crack formed in his certainty. Is she actually... sad?

He shook his head, physically dispelling the thought. No. She's a master manipulator. She trapped me. She wants the money. He repeated the mantra, rebuilding his walls.

---

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