The Secret Wife

‘So?’ Rosie groaned as she stood up.

‘Rosie...you don’t want to sign anything away before or after that wedding,’ Maurice warned her. ‘Voulos doesn’t need your father’s estate. He’s already rich as sin. It’s all wrong that you should be cut out just because the guy doesn’t want you around!’

‘I’m going to bed—’

‘I’m trying to look out for you, Rosie. You have got rights too,’ Maurice told her with stark impatience. ‘Your dad would turn in his grave if he knew what Voulos was doing!’

‘Maurice, Constantine Voulos has not one thing that I want.’

But was it true that Constantine was wealthier than her father had ever been? Anton certainly hadn’t travelled around in a chauffeur-driven limo or hauled bodyguards in his wake. She shrugged. Either way, what did it matter to her? And even if Constantine was filthy rich it didn’t mean he couldn’t also be disgustingly greedy.

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