The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 9

Chapter 1

I proposed to Wes 99 times. He finally said yes–right after I took a knife for him.

Yet the day I left the hospital, he dumped me on the side of the road in the pouring rain.

“Emergency at work. Get yourself home.”

By the time I made it back, my wound was infected again.

Collapsed on the bed, I saw his laptop–still open, messages unlocked.

One name pinned at the top: Stella Vaughn. His stepsister.

I clicked in. My hands were shaking.

Wes: [Stella, you’re back?]

Wes: [It’s pouring. Don’t come out–you’ll get sick. I’m heading to the airport right

Stella: [Aren’t you getting married in like a week? Why are you even here?]

Wes: [You know you’re the only one I care about. Even after I’m married, I’ll always be there for you.]

Heart in pieces, I dialed his biggest rival.

“I’ll marry you instead.”

“As for Wes… we’re done.”

The next day at dinner, Wes sat across from me with Stella glued to his side.

“So you’re staying for good this time?” someone asked.

“Yep.” Stella’s smile was all sugar as she glanced at Wes. “My brother begged me to stay. Said he missed me like crazy these past three years.”

My grip tightened around my water glass as a chill crept through my chest.

Three years ago, I got a call from one of Wes’s buddies. Rushed to some dive bar to pick him up–totally wasted.

I got him settled, was about to leave, when his lips crashed into mine.

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

6.7%

Chapter 1

“Don’t go…”

It lasted maybe two seconds before he shoved me away.

After that night, he stopped pushing me away. Let me get close.

Turns out, Mr. Cool–and–Collected got himself blackout drunk because the stepsister he was in love with had left the country.

That kiss was meant for her–Stella.

What I thought was us falling for each other was just him nursing a broken heart.

I swallowed the knife–sharp pain twisting in my gut and forced myself not to care.

Food hit the table–all spicy Cajun. Every. Single. Dish. Loaded with hot sauce and peppers.

“You remembered what I like!” Stella squealed.

I caught the way Wes looked at her. Pure adoration.

Stella lived for spicy food. I had a sensitive stomach–couldn’t handle even a hint of heat.

And I’d just gotten out of the hospital. Doctor’s orders: avoid anything spicy.

I pressed my lips together and flagged down a server.

“Could I just get a bowl of plain oatmeal, please?”

While I sipped my sad little bowl of oatmeal, Wes peeled shrimp for Stella across the table.

She closed her eyes, practically purring. “I’ve been dying for your cooking.”

“Tell me what you want. I’ll make it tonight.” The smile on his face gutted me.

I’d always known Wes trained with some fancy chef. But no matter how much I begged–pouted, pleaded, the whole nine yards–he’d shut me down every time.

“Too busy.” “Hate the smell of cooking.” “Not my thing.”

But Stella asks once, and he’s already planning the menu.

My fingers trembled. I clenched them into fists.

Love versus not–love. Crystal clear.

“Why so quiet, Brynn? Just gonna sit there with your boring oatmeal?”

19:59

The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

6.9%

Chapter 1

Stella’s voice cut through the table chatter, and suddenly everyone was staring.

“Not feeling the food? Is that enough for you?”

I met her gaze, forcing myself to ignore Wes entirely.

“I don’t do spicy. Oatmeal’s fine.”

“Well, if you’re done, let’s play a game!”

She batted her lashes at me. Beneath the sweetness, I caught a flicker of disgust.

“I’ll pass.”

“Wes, does Brynn hate me or something?”

Stella pouted, clinging to his arm.

Right on cue, Wes frowned at me. Voice flat: “It’s just a game, Brynn. Don’t be a buzzkill.”

Watching them cozy up like that made my heart skip–painfully.

In the midst of their laughter, they’d already cleared the table.

Someone tossed out a deck of cards, dealing them with the practiced ease of a casino dealer, sliding one card in front

of each of us.

“The Queen of Hearts or the Three of Spades. Whoever you pick has to down all ten bottles on the table.”

I stared at the Three of Spades in my hand as Stella whined, “Why me? You know I can’t drink.”

The ice in Wes’s eyes melted as he ruffled her hair. “I’ve got you.”

I took a breath and put my card on the table.

The room went dead silent.

Someone tried to smooth things over.

“Let’s just skip this round. Brynn just had surgery, and Stella can’t drink. Ten bottles is insane.”

Everyone was ready to move on–except Stella.

“Where’s the fun in skipping? Let Wes choose.”

She smirked at me.

19:59