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Chapter 29: Claire

last update Date de publication: 2026-04-02 23:50:42
Nobody moves for a full five seconds.

Claire Ashworth stands in the doorway of Rhys's apartment like she was invited, one hand still on the door frame, the other holding a bag that probably costs more than my car, and she looks around the room with the patient amusement of a woman who has never once in her life felt like she did not belong somewhere.

Rhys finds his voice first. "Get out."

"Rhys," she says, almost affectionate. "I drove two hours."

"I do not care," he says. "You do not have a key
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  • EYES OPEN   Chapter 42: Sunday

    Sundays used to feel like waiting.Waiting for Monday, waiting for Derek to get off his phone, waiting for the week to start so the hollow performance of the weekend could stop. I did not even realize I was waiting until I stopped.Now Sundays feel like this.Rhys's leg over mine under the duvet. Coffee going cold on the nightstand because neither of us moved fast enough. His hand drawing absent patterns on my back while he reads something on his phone and I stare at the ceiling doing absolutely nothing, which turns out to be one of the most underrated activities available to a human being."Stop thinking," he says without looking up."I am not thinking," I say."Your not thinking is very loud," he says.I roll over and take his phone out of his hand and put it face down on the nightstand and he looks at me with that expression, the one that is half amusement and half something that makes my stomach do things it has no business doing at ten in the morning."Hi," I say."Hi," he says b

  • EYES OPEN   Chapter 41: The Dinner

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  • EYES OPEN   Chapter 40: Martin Raymond

    He is smaller than I imagined.Not physically... he is a substantial man, broad shouldered, silver haired, the kind of presence that fills a room through habit rather than effort. But something about seeing him in person, standing in my office doorway in a coat that announces money without trying, makes him smaller than the version I constructed across months of documents and wire transfers and coordinated campaigns.He looks like a man who has spent his whole life being the most powerful person available and has recently discovered that the category was smaller than he thought.I gesture to the chair across from my desk.He sits.We look at each other."You are not surprised to see me," he says."I am not surprised by much anymore," I say. "What do you want Mr. Raymond?"He studies me the way powerful men study people they underestimated, with the specific focus of someone recalibrating. "I want to understand what you intend to do," he says. "With what you have.""Graham filed everyt

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  • EYES OPEN   Chapter 38: Verified

    Derek calls on a Wednesday morning with the kind of voice that means something has shifted."The pregnancy is real," he says.I am standing at my office window with my coffee and I stay very still for a moment."Verified how?" I ask."I hired a private medical consultant," he says. "Independent, nothing to do with Vivienne's doctor. She agreed to the verification, which surprised me. Eight weeks."Eight weeks.I do the math without wanting to. Eight weeks takes it back to approximately the hotel trip. The one he told me was a work commitment. The one where he came home with peonies and guilt and I smiled at him across the dinner table knowing everything."Okay," I say."Camille, I need to tell you something and I need you to hear it properly," he says. "I am not going back to her. I want that completely clear. Whatever this baby means for logistics and legal arrangements, it does not change anything about where I am standing.""Does she know that?""I told her yesterday," he says. "In

  • EYES OPEN   Chapter 15: The Sister

    Her name is Nora Callahan.I know this because Rhys says it under his breath like a man bracing for weather he has been watching approach from a distance and hoped would change direction.She walks in ahead of whoever is with her, small and sharp-eyed with dark hair cut blunt at the jaw and the spe

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    I do not call Derek back that night.I sit with his message for exactly as long as it takes me to get to my car, start the engine, and decide that whatever Vivienne told him was designed to be delivered at night when I am tired and off-guard and more likely to react emotionally.So I drive home. I

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    I figure out Vivienne's mistake at seven the next morning.I am standing at the kitchen counter with my coffee, scrolling back through every message she has sent from every number, laying them out in chronological order in my notes app like a timeline, and that is when I see it.She tipped her hand

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