Not even five glasses of scotch could cauterize what she’d done. Just heat. Liquid fire laced with regret. It scorched his throat on the way down, left it clenched tight. A sound ripped out of him. Half a choke, half a groan. Still numb. Still that void—cold, hollow—where her warmth used to be. Kain dragged a hand down his face, stubble rasping against his palm. The scotch hit sour now, pointless. Barefoot. Shirt hanging open, damp with sweat and grief. The marble floor beneath him, cold and real—the only thing grounding him in a world he never asked to wake up in. The city pulsed behind the glass. Cold lights under a dying sky. He used to own that skyline. Now? It just stared back. Mocking. “I’m sorry, Kain. I will never be your wife.” God. The way she said it. Quiet. Final. Not cruel—just… done. It echoed. Crawled under his skin. Her mouth didn’t even form his name—just silence, sharp enough to gut him. The ring had slipped through his fingers like it weighed a t
***FLASHBACK**** Steam curled like ghosts in the bathroom, clouding the mirror and crawling across the marble walls. Jade stood under the showerhead, water cascading down her back—too hot, but she didn’t flinch. Her skin was already numb. She scrubbed her arms and neck again and again, like she could scrape off what happened the night before. Kain’s mouth on her skin. His name on her lips. Then…Amara. She blinked against the droplets clinging to her lashes. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. The sting wasn’t from the water—it was the shame blooming like wildfire beneath her skin. This was the morning of his wedding to Scarlett. And she—idiot, dreamer, fool—was the girl washing herself like a sin. Who the hell is Amara? Was I just a mistake? A stand-in? Did I give him all of me for nothing? Her fingers curled against her ribs. The water pelted her like rain she couldn’t run from. Her knees nearly buckled under the weight of what she’d given—of what she thought they
She knocked—twice, then three times. Her knuckles split open against the heavy oak doors of the Miller estate. The rain clung to her lashes. Her dress soaked through, clinging like a second humiliation. Her breath fogged in the cold. Chest rising and falling too fast. She had slept on their steps. For two nights. No food. No call back. Scarlett had locked her out. No one had come looking. They left me here like I was nothing. Jade swallowed hard and knocked again, harder this time. Her arm trembled from exhaustion. No answer. Her stomach growled. She looked down at her bruised hands. Then the door creaked open. Hope flickered in her chest. Her mother stood in the frame. Not a hair out of place. Silk robe. Nails manicured. Barefoot on marble. Cold eyes. No hug. No warmth. Her gaze scanned Jade’s soaked clothes, ruined eyeliner, swollen face. Please. Just pretend to care. Jade’s heart sank. “Jade,” her mother said, flat and dry. “This isn’t a go
Madeline’s mouth opened in horror. “How dare you—” “I’ve stayed silent long enough,” he growled. “My father made you. And now you’re trying to control me with a fake legacy? I’ve had enough.” “I loved your father!” she cried. “And I love you. That’s why I want to protect you. It broke me that I couldn’t give him a child, but having you made me whole.” He scoffed. “You love power. That’s why you’re still pushing the inheritance will and Amara Quinn down my throat.” “She’s the perfect bride. Your father chose her—” “What now? Think I’m a toddler you can distract with candy? I don’t love her. I’ve never met her. Never even said a word to her. I stayed celibate for Jade—and if I can’t have her, then so be it. I’ll die that way.” Madeline’s eyes darkened. “You really think Jade will stay with you?” She stepped closer, voice dropping. “And what if Jade isn’t the only one with secrets?” “Even when she finds out you have a child from your past?” she snapped. The room froze. Kain’
The sunlight sliced through Kain’s skull like a blade. He stormed out of the church, fists clenched, chest heaving. The heat stung his eyes—whether from the sun, the rage boiling inside him, or the way Jade ripped his heart out at the altar, he couldn’t tell. He snatched the keys from his driver without a word, yanked the door open, slammed into the seat, and shoved the car into reverse. The tires screeched as he flew down the street like a man possessed. No—like a man hunted. By fire? No. By Rob. If he had stayed another second in that church and watched that bastard touch her again—he’d be in jail for murder. Would’ve broken his jaw. Maybe worse. — Two days. Kain disappeared. No calls. No texts. Phone dead. Curtains drawn. Kain hid from the world and buried himself in the darkness. Locked himself in his penthouse. Shirtless. Still in tuxedo trousers. Bed soaked in sweat and silence.The room reeked of loneliness, of a man who hadn’t moved in days, of pain sinking into
Jade stood at the back of the church in a silver dress that suddenly felt all wrong. Too tight. Too shiny. Like it knew exactly what she was about to do. Maybe her real mistake wasn’t walking into this church. Maybe it was ever loving an older man like Kain. Last night still clung to her skin. The way he touched her. The way he said her name. How the hell was she supposed to erase that? She tried to breathe. Her chest tightened. Fingers numb. Inside, her heart thundered like a war drum — but outside? Still. The church looked like a royal fantasy. Gold arches. Endless white roses. Velvet-covered pews. Cameras flashing from every corner. And at the altar, dressed like a queen in pure white, stood Scarlett. Her sister. Her nightmare. Smirking like she’d already won — little did she know, Kain had footage of her bribing hotel staff, setting them all up. After everything she had done , she would be done for. Jade didn’t flinch. Her parents smiled like everything was fine — l