Five years ago, Preston had been in a car accident so bad he slipped into a coma. At the worst possible moment, Savannah ran off abroad, dodging their supposed arranged marriage. That’s when the Adelsons brought Sydney back—the real heiress—to take Savannah’s place and marry Preston.
After the wedding, she took care of him like a devoted wife. Slowly, painstakingly, he recovered. In turn, he promised her that from then on, he’d be loyal to her.
Though cold and reserved, he had always treated her with unwavering respect.
Knowing she loved flowers, he had bought her an entire rose estate so she could wake up every day to almost a hundred freshly picked blooms.
When she had been mocked as a country bumpkin, he had spent twenty-eight million on an antique ring and knelt to place it on her hand, defending her honor.
When she had been trapped in a car accident, gasoline leaking everywhere, he had thrown caution to the wind, pried open the car door with his bare hands, and even as all ten fingers were shredded, he had saved her life.
Everyone had said Sydney was lucky; she had a devoted and wealthy husband. She had believed it, too.