Clean Millions From My Dirty Husband
Language: en
To pay off my father’s eight-million-dollar gambling debt, I married Buck Miller—a rough-edged industrialist who could barely read a balance sheet, let alone a menu in French. He wanted the prestige of a Ivy League trophy wife; I wanted the bottomless pit of his bank account. I loathed his lack of culture. I hated the way he smacked his lips when he ate. I treated his black card like a weapon, wielding it to reign over our estate like a bored, vengeful queen. He never complained. Whenever I’d max out a limit, he’d just offer a rugged, dimpled smile. "You look beautiful, Callie," he’d say,…