She had been one eviction notice away from homelessness, and he’d done it to, “keep her from ruining his younger brother’s life,” as he’d put it. He’d made their roles distinctively clear from the beginning, and she’d gone along with it because she’d needed the protection of his name and the money that went along with it. They were up in the Grafton Highlands, at another dull event that he’d dragged her to, because he wanted to flaunt her to his equally wealthy friends. Eden grabbed a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter before escaping to the veranda for some much needed air. She sighed resignedly, daring to look away fully knowing that he would discipline her for this unknown reason later. She hadn’t really done anything in the last few minutes to warrant the reaction, but then again, Dominic Armstrong didn’t need much to set him off these days. Like now for instance, she could feel that piercing stare from across the room, the distinct bite of his scorn putting her instantly on alert. He never failed to remind her of her status in their marriage, whether it was with his remarks, that have only grown nastier over the years, or the reproachful looks, that seemed to carve across her flesh like a whip. It was on occasions like these that Eden realized how very little she mattered to her husband.
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