His Twisted Lies And Golden Cage

Love Like Morning Mist, Gone Before Sunrise

Prologue

Three years ago, my fiancé cheated on me with my best friend.

When grief had nearly finished me, it was his best friend, Jameson, who pulled me out of the abyss.

So I married him.

After the wedding, Jameson was unfailingly tender. His only fear was losing me:

If a male colleague texted me about work after six in the evening, he would demand to know what right that man had to contact another man’s wife.

If I laughed a little too freely at a dinner party, his palm would settle heavily on the back of my neck.