Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | The Wife Before |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Shanora Williams |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
Fans of Sally Hepworth, Kellye Garrett, and Janelle Brown will be engrossed by this unpredictable novel of suspense as a new bride’s fairytale marriage becomes a prison of secrets. From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Perfect Ruin, this insidiously sexy, twist-filled psycho-drama is reminiscent of the classic gothic tale Rebecca. BookBub’s Best Mysteries & Thrillers of 2022 Samira Wilder has never had it easy, and when her latest lousy job goes south, things only promise to get harder. Until she unexpectedly meets a man who will change her life forever. Renowned pro golfer Roland Graham is wealthy, handsome, and caring, and Samira is dazzled. Best of all, he seems to understand her better than anyone ever has. And though their relationship moves a bit fast, when Roland proposes, Samira accepts. She even agrees to relocate to his secluded Colorado mansion. After all, there’s nothing to keep her in Miami, and the mansion clearly makes him happy. Soon, they are married amid a media firestorm, and Samira can't wait to make a fresh start—as the second Mrs. Graham . . . Samira settles into the mansion, blissfully happy—until she discovers long-hidden journals belonging to Roland’s late wife, Melanie, who died in a tragic accident. With each dusty page, Samira comes to realize that perhaps it was no accident at all—that perhaps her perfect husband is not as perfect as she thought. Even as her trust in Roland begins to dwindle and a shadow falls over her marriage and she begins to fear for her own life, Samira is determined to uncover the truth of Melanie’s troubled last days. But even good wives should know that the truth is not always what it seems . . . | |
| Books by Author: | Shanora Williams |
PROLOGUE
He is going to kill me.
There was a time when I never would have thought such an awful thing about him.
He is not the man I assumed he was. He’s different now—or maybe he’s not different at all and this is how he’s always been. Those eyes that used to look at me so lovingly, now stare back at me like dark coals. The soft lips that would tenderly kiss mine, I haven’t felt on my skin in ages.
During late nights when I walk around the mansion, I feel the constant urge to look over my shoulder. Nights like tonight, as I pack my suitcase and then stuff my feet into my shoes, I’m well aware of the footsteps thundering through the hallways.
He’s prowling. He hates me and he wants me gone. He’s told me so many times before.
You aren’t the woman for me anymore.
I’m over you.
Done with you.
I don’t feel safe in this house. The air is colder, the light and warmth gone. This is a lonely place, and the terror inside me is swelling, becoming harder to cope with, with each passing day.
The bedroom door creaks open and I gasp. He stares at me from across the room, standing in the doorway. Like a wicked silhouette, he clutches the brass doorknob and I stare back at him, unmoving. Hardly breathing. What the hell does he want?
He turns away with a grunt, leaving the door wide open, those heavy footsteps of his booming through the hallway. When his dark figure turns a corner and is out of sight, I hurry to zip my suitcase up and snatch it off the bed. I carry it down the hallway, avoiding the use of the wheels to prevent any noise, and make my way downstairs. When I reach the hallway, passing elongated windows, I notice the snow pitter-pattering, brushing the glass, the moon shining through in a milky light. I have to hurry before the snow gets worse.
I leave my suitcase at the door and then rush to the mudroom to put on my coat. When I’m at the foyer, I collect my keys from the gold key bowl and grab the handle of the suitcase, marching for the door and heading outside.
Snowflakes melt on my heated cheeks as I hustle toward the car parked in the stone driveway. As I toss my suitcase into the trunk, I hear footsteps behind me and gasp, spinning around.
No one is around—at least not that I can see. There are so many trees, so many shadows. So many places for him to hide.
“Melanie,” a deep voice sings and I gasp again, looking around. Where the hell is he?
Heart sinking to my stomach, I turn, shoving the suitcase all the way in and then going for the side of the car. But as I reach the door handle, the car door locks.
“No!” I scream. He’s toying with me. He has my other key fob! Why didn’t I grab that one too? I dig into my coat pocket, hands trembling, bottom lip quivering from both fear and cold. I take it out, press the unlock button, and just as I clutch the door, I hear footsteps. They’re louder. Heavier.
I yank open the door, panicking, heart racing, but it’s too late.
Before I can get inside, a hand clutches a handful of my hair from behind me and a scream rips out of my throat.
I dare myself to look up and face him, and there he is—a dark silhouette in front of me, staring down with angry eyes. His nostrils flare and his hot breaths pass over my clammy skin. I want to scream again, but he and I both know that no matter how much I scream, no one will hear me. It’s only us. No one here to save me.
Tonight is the night he will kill me.
CHAPTER ONE
I often think back to the very moment my whole life changed. I was twenty-eight years old, taking each day as it was. I didn’t really have much going for me, and not much to look forward to, but I didn’t mind that. I was a floater, moving from place to place, going with the flow, not usually one to complain.
But now, I can’t help going back to when my life took the slightest turn and paved the way toward Roland Graham.
It all started the day I was supposed to meet my brother, Kell, for lunch. I woke up to the blaring alarm on my phone and groaned, jamming a finger down on the screen to stop the noise. I missed the screen and sat up with a huff, snatching up my phone and pressing the button hard to make the alarm stop.
The label on the alarm said Work. I rolled my eyes and flopped back down on my bed, burrowing myself beneath the comforter.