Blake didn't know when the desire had started to grow inside him. Charlotte was undeniably beautiful, but it was more than that. There was a hunger, a need for love and connection that had haunted him for far too long. Only now could he finally recognize it for what it was. They kissed like the world was too small to contain them. His hands explored her body, desperate to learn every nerve that made her tremble and moan. In seconds, he could already feel her soaked with desire, and the heat between them was too much to hold back. With a low growl of satisfaction, his mouth claimed her breasts, then moved down her stomach, tracing a path of fire to her navel. Charlotte arched her hips toward his lips without even realizing it. Blake pulled her to him with a needy motion and sank into her like he was drowning and she was the air. He entered her slowly, his hips rolling in sync with hers. Charlotte cried out in pleasure, her movements growing wilder, her moans louder. They were both
But Gideon was wrong. Blake wouldn't forget any of it. Not the next day, not ever. The guilt crushing his chest was too heavy, because he had seen the before and after. He remembered the sweet, innocent girl who used to light up the world. And now he was staring at the woman betrayal had shaped her into. Lottie really had died, and Charlie had returned in her place... to make them all pay. When he finally woke up, his headache was brutal. But the pain in his soul was worse. Gideon handed him a cup of coffee and looked at him with a flicker of sympathy. "You okay? Want something for the headache?" he asked, imagining the hangover had to be murderous. "No," Blake sighed, gripping the warm mug. "Let it hurt. Right now, the only thing keeping me from completely losing it is this damn headache. If I could think clearly, I probably would've jumped off the nearest bridge by now." "That bad, huh?" Gideon asked carefully. "Worse than I imagined," Blake murmured, unsure how to pu
All that came out of his mouth was a ragged, choking breath. A desperate attempt to breathe. Blake couldn't tear his eyes away from those scars, even as he held Charlotte's hands in his. It was one of those terrible images that destroyed you… and still, you couldn't look away. The weight of guilt crushed him like a slab of concrete pressing down on his chest. Not even in his worst nightmares had he imagined this. That she had done something like that. That she had tried… to take her own life. "Oh God, Charlie," he choked out through a sob. He couldn't take it anymore. He felt like his soul was ripping apart, and there was no release, not even in apology. He didn't even know when he dropped to his knees in front of her. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and his voice was raw with pain. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me," he cried, breathless, broken. "I need you to know how much I regret what I did. I should've believed you. I should have believed you. You were
Blake's thoughts spiraled into chaos as Gideon's words echoed in his mind. The idea that the setup hadn't been aimed at him, but at Charlotte, had rattled him to his core. It forced him to question every single detail he remembered from those dark days when everything between them had fallen apart. He couldn't shake the image of that young girl—so vulnerable, crying, swearing she had nothing to do with it. And he'd let her suffer. He'd added to her pain. Blake's heart ached every time those words repeated in his head: "You were a grown damn man and I was a child." She was right. He'd been an adult. A man. So why hadn't he been the one people accused? "Do you have any idea what happened to me after that...?" He didn't. And that ignorance was tearing him apart. "Between the two of you, the only one who had no way to defend herself… was her." "Damn it!" Blake shouted, sending everything on his desk crashing to the floor in a wave of desperation. The next two days were a
He couldn't breathe. Blake felt a stabbing pain in his chest, as if he'd plunged the knife in himself—and now there was no way to pull it out. The truth? The truth was horrifying. The truth made him guilty. And those bloodstained sheets crumpled in the corner of the room… they were his sentence. Charlotte hadn't lied to him seven years ago. She'd been a child. A child who had woken up naked next to him in a bed—and who everyone, himself included, had blamed for the worst. She was the one who had been hurt. She was the one who had been drugged and violated. And he hadn't believed her. He'd accused her like the rest of the family and had spent the last seven years hating an innocent woman. He launched himself off the bed, pacing back and forth through the room until he finally snapped. His rage and frustration exploded outward, and he destroyed every object within reach. Then he stormed out, barely stopping to pay for the damage before speeding like a madman toward Lawrence Dalt
Regret hit Blake like a punch to the gut. 'She was a virgin…' And he had been her first—now. The shock completely paralyzed him. His eyes stayed locked on Charlotte's face, watching the tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips trembling in a quiet, painful laugh. Blake had no idea what to say. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He could only fixate on the truth that now shattered everything he thought he knew. Seven years ago… none of it had been real. She was still as untouched as she had been at fifteen. "Lottie..." His voice was hoarse, uncertain. And when Charlotte's eyes met his, the pain and strain in her expression hit him like a blade in the throat. 'God, she was a virgin…' All he could do was release her wrists. Her arms fell gently to her sides, and he cradled her in his own. Her sobs were barely louder than a breath, but he could feel the weight of a breakdown behind them. He couldn't believe it… He couldn't even begin to imagine how it felt. There had to be p