LOGINJason’s POVThe first thing I notice when I wake up is the silence. It's the specific emptiness of a bed meant for two. I open my eyes and realize Diane’s side is cold. She’s been up for a while. Old habit makes me reach across anyway. I sit up, run a hand through my hair, and pull on my sweatpants. The city outside is still grey and half-asleep. I move through the silent penthouse until I find her standing in the doorway of the east guest suite, wearing one of my shirts that skims her thighs, hair loose down her back. The bed inside is untouched. “He’s gone,” she says quietly, sensing me behind her. “Yes.” “I knew he would be.” Her voice carries a quiet ache. “I hoped I was wrong, but I think I knew the moment he walked in.” I step beside her and slip an arm around her waist. “The debt will be cleared. Raphael’s on it. My lawyers are already handling your mother’s house. You’ll have the deed back soon.” She turns to me, eyes soft with something between gratitude and exha
Diane’s POV"What's going on in here?"Jason’s deep, commanding voice slices through the room from the hallway.I turn.He stands in the doorway wearing a fitted grey t-shirt that clings to his broad chest and black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. His arms are folded loosely, but his sharp eyes move between me and Darole, seeing everything and revealing nothing.Darole’s face instantly hardens. The vulnerability I saw moments ago disappears behind that familiar defensive wall he always puts up around men he thinks are judging him.“Ah,” Darole says, leaning back on the sofa with fake casualness. “The rich husband finally shows up. Come to save the day?”Jason stares at him for a long, silent moment before his gaze shifts to me. “Diane. What’s going on?”“Nothing,” I say automatically.He gives me that look — the one that says he knows I’m lying.I exhale, giving in. “He owes a lot of money. He used Mom’s house as collateral and the deal fell through.”Jason processes i
Diane's POVMy brother looks like a man who has been losing for a long time and has only just admitted it to himself.He steps out of the elevator in a jacket that has seen significantly better days, the leather cracked at the elbows, his hands shoved into pockets that might contain nothing at all. His eyes move around the penthouse with that specific expression people get when they are trying not to look impressed and failing completely.He is broader than I remember. A little greyer at the temples. Thirty-four years old and wearing every single one of them.His eyes find me across the marble expanse of my living room."Dee," he says. It's the name I absolutely hate, the one he uses when he wants something from me. I don't remember the last time I saw him look this sober."Darole," I say back, my heart racing wondering what sort of conversation I'm about to have with my brother who I have not had a proper conversation with in years.Jason cups my face and plants a kiss on my lips."I
Diane's POVIt’s been months since I spent a night away from Jason. The two-week break I needed wasn’t just about the abortion; it was about untangling the emotional wreckage that came with it.Having Scar and Nancy by my side made it bearable. Getting rid of the pregnancy was difficult, but necessary. I’d rather be childless than have a child caught in the crossfire of an unsolved case. The relief I felt was overwhelming, though weird.When I walk through the front door, Jason is waiting. He crosses the distance between us in seconds, his arms wrapping around me with a force that steals the breath from my lungs.I don't fight it. I let the strap of my bag slip from my shoulder and bury my face against his chest, inhaling deeply the scent of him. Mint and wood. It's so distinctly his that I can't separate the two anymore without thinking of him."I missed you," he breathes against my hair, and the knot in my chest finally loosens."I missed you too," I whisper.He pulls back slowly, k
Diane's POVThe flowers are still on my desk. White peonies. My absolute favorite. Jason knows this, of course. Which is precisely why they're there, and why I haven't thrown them away despite the satisfaction it might bring. These flowers and my anger can coexist.I refuse to examine what that means.I'm halfway through source notes when my phone rings. Expecting Nancy or Scarlett, I glance down. Instead, Liam's name flashes across the screen.I frown slightly as I answer. "Hey. What's…""He's gone.” He blurts. I've heard Liam drunk, angry, manipulative, charming, but never like this. Something fundamental has been stripped from his voice, leaving only the hollow echo behind."What do you mean gone?" I ask carefully."My dad." His voice trembles with the effort of control. "He was there last night. I sat with him for two hours. The nurses checked on him at eleven and he was stable."There's a short pause before he continues."This morning he was gone. No transfer record, no discharg
Jason's POVIt's been four days since Diane spoke to me, and the silence in our home is deafening. I know exactly why she's pissed off. I'd be furious too if my husband hit me with something as devastating as "you're only here because you needed me to fix your life." I just hope she likes the flowers I sent her this morning.Knowing Diane, they're probably sitting on her desk. She's too practical to throw out good flowers even when she's furious with me.I knew saying that would hurt her. There's no point pretending it wasn't deliberate. This darkness has been part of me since I can remember. When Carla cheated on me years ago, I didn't just leave, I cheated back just to twist the knife. That's what I do—hurt those who hurt me. Though in this case, she couldn't have known the depth of her words' impact. The last thing I want is to be anything like that son of a bitch stepfather of mine. To compare me to him was close to the most painful thing she could have said. And instead of expla







