Return Of The Billionaire's Ghost Wife

I died in the terrifying plunge of Flight 815. But when I opened my eyes, I was lying in a luxurious bathtub, completely unharmed.

The door opened, and my husband Jordi walked in—looking fifteen years older, his eyes glacial. He pinned me to the wall, his thumb pressing against my windpipe, demanding to know who hired me to play his dead wife.

I managed to prove I was the real Isadora, biologically still twenty-eight years old. But my nightmare had just begun.

My twenty-three-year-old son Hector looked at my unaged face with pure hatred.