At twenty-nine, Rosalie was tall, strong, and unwilling to hide. A dark birthmark covered part of her left cheek and neck, while her hair thinned near one temple. Since childhood, people had called her ugly, cursed, and impossible to love—often with encouragement from her own father.
That was why she walked openly beneath the stares of two hundred guests.
Waiting at the altar was Manuel Nelson, heir to a once-respected company destroyed by scandal. His father had died after being falsely accused of embezzlement, the family accounts were frozen, and Manuel’s younger sister had been forced to leave university.
Emmett Durham offered to clear the Nelson family name and pay every debt.
In exchange, Manuel had to marry Rosalie.
During their only private conversation before the wedding, Rosalie had spoken plainly.
“My father says you are desperate.”
“And I was told you hate dishonesty,” Manuel replied.
