Luxury Model Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

word “decision.” She could almost see the hackles stand up on the back of his neck. He resented when she made choices without his input, though he had no problem making “choices” for her.
    Victoria straightened her shoulders. “Your father’s death has been hard on me. When James died, my life went into a tailspin. I’m not ready to deal with more changes. I’ve decided…” Jimmy’s jaw set on edge. “Not to sell the house just yet.”
    More to the point, she had no idea where to go or what to do with the rest of her life. She thought she’d be married for decades, not a fistful of years.
    Jimmy visibly bristled.
    Victoria braced herself against the impending storm and soldiered on. “Selling it is more than I can handle. I plan to find a new place to live, but I want to stay here another year or so while I sell off the contents. I’ll pay the taxes and maintenance fees. None of the expenses will impact you.”
    Jimmy ignored her conciliatory tone and issued a sharp retort. “We met with the auction house. You agreed.”
    “No,” she countered. “You insisted we sell my house and its contents quickly, though I’ve told you repeatedly I’m not ready. I’d hoped you’d understand.”
    Jimmy might never understand the indelible marks left by homelessness and destitution. After her husband’s sudden death, her old fears and insecurities had come roaring back. It didn’t make a difference that she was no longer poor. It didn’t matter that she’d learned to be competent in all other areas of her life. At her core, she had safety issues that might never be resolved.
    Losing the only home she’d ever known was the one thing she couldn’t handle.
    She could see Jimmy’s jaw pulse from across the room. His gaze turned hard. “It’s ridiculous for one person to live here.”
    “Maybe, but I’m not ready to leave your father yet.”
    She didn’t tell him she was trapped—afraid to leave. The world outside these doors had never been kind to her. From the streets to the country club, she’d been reviled in equal measure. The only difference was the size of her bank account.
    “But he’s left us, dammit.” Jimmy roared. “He’s dead. Face facts.”
    Victoria raised herself straighter in her chair. “Don’t try again to force me to leave. I won’t do it. Sell your things any way you want. I’ll live in this house as long as I like and I’ll hire the sellers I choose to clear its contents.”
    She amended those last few words and braced herself for an onslaught. “Or whom your father would have chosen.”
    The effect was instantaneous. Jimmy charged across the room, stopping just short of Victoria’s chair, panting from the fury he seemed barely able to control. “You will not use Carlson’s.”
    “It’s already been decided,” she replied evenly. “It’s the right thing to do. Deep down, you know that’s true. It’s what your father would have wanted.”
    He pointed a warning finger, his chest heaving. “I’ll stop you, so help me.”
    She waved away the accusing finger. “I’m over the worst of my grieving, and I’m stronger now, so I’ll only say this once. Your father never tried to control me. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you.”
    Jimmy grabbed her half-empty martini glass and hurled it across the room. The glass hit the far wall, splashed vodka, and shattered into claw-like shards on the carpet.
    Victoria flinched, and sweat broke over her brow. Her hands began to shake and her breathing turned shallow as a panic attack loomed. The violent scene awakened memories of drunken rages and the cringing child she once was, but she resisted the resurrected emotions.
    Deep breaths. Find a focal point in the room…and breathe.
    After a moment, she stood, and somehow managed to keep her knees from buckling. “Don’t you dare try to bully or threaten me.” She refused to act like a victim, even when she was vulnerable.
    Something in her demeanor must have warned Jimmy off,