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The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk
img img The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk img Chapter 8 8
8 Chapters
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 8 8

Ivy woke up to screaming. Happy screaming.

"Ivy! Wake up! Look at the internet!"

Kia was jumping on the foot of Ivy's bed.

Ivy groaned, pulling the pillow over her head. "Are they burning me in effigy yet?"

"No! Look!"

Kia shoved her phone under the pillow.

Ivy squinted at the screen. A grainy video from inside Soho House.

Holt's voice, clear and cold: "Ivy is family. So I would suggest you stop tweeting about her."

Ivy's jaw dropped.

She scrolled down. The hashtag HoltProtectsFamily was trending.

Omg they are cousins?? That explains the awkward hug!

Holt is such a protective big bro!

Kennedy Gilmore getting shut down is my spirit animal.

"He did it," Ivy whispered. "He actually did it."

Alex burst into the room, holding two coffees. "We are back in business, baby! The casting director just emailed to confirm the time. They are 'excited to see Holt's talented cousin.'"

Ivy sat up, feeling a strange mixture of relief and guilt.

He had lied for her. The man who never lied, who prided himself on brutal honesty, had lied to the world to save her career.

She owed him.

"I need to go see him," Ivy said.

"Call him," Alex said.

"No. I need to go there."

"The paparazzi are still outside," Kia warned.

"I'll take the Toyota," Ivy said. "The old one with the dented bumper. They won't look twice at it."

Thirty minutes later, Ivy was wearing a baseball cap, oversized sunglasses, and a hoodie. She slouched low in the seat of her 2010 Corolla.

As she reached the underground garage, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. Black Escalade, main gate. You have sixty seconds. Go now. - E

Ivy didn't hesitate. She heard the roar of engines and shouting from the main entrance as the paparazzi swarmed the decoy vehicle. She gunned the Toyota's tired engine and slipped out the service exit, unnoticed. The paparazzi were focused on the black SUV.

She was free.

Ivy drove toward the hills. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white.

What was she going to say? Thanks for lying? Thanks for not divorcing me?

And why did he do it?

Was it just to protect the Nicholson name from scandal? That was the logical answer. Holt was a businessman first, an actor second.

But the memory of the text-Mrs. Nicholson-nagged at her.

She reached the winding roads of Beverly Hills. The air was cleaner here, smelling of eucalyptus and money.

Ivy pulled up to the massive iron gates of The Fortress. There was no keypad. Just a camera.

She rolled down the window and looked into the lens.

"It's... Ivy," she said to the plastic box.

A beat of silence. Then, the heavy gates groaned and swung open.

Ivy drove up the long, winding driveway, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She wasn't just visiting her "cousin." She was visiting her husband. And for the first time in three years, she felt like she was walking into the lion's den.

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