LOGINEvelyn POV"And I believed her. Not because the evidence supported it, but because believing her was simpler than admitting that I was afraid. If you were scheming, I didn't have to feel guilty for treating you badly. If you were performing, I didn't have to acknowledge that my coldness was hurting a real person. Isabella gave me a story that let me off the hook, and I held onto that story because letting go of it meant looking at myself honestly, and I wasn't ready to do that."His thumb moved slowly across my knuckles."But I can't lay all of it on Isabella. That would be too easy, and you deserve better than easy answers. The truth is, the signs were there—every sign. You cooked meals I never tasted. You helped with company reports I never thanked you for. You took care of my mother with a devotion that had nothing to do with strategy and everything to do with who you are as a person. And I ignored all of it because I was comfortable in
Evelyn POVWe sat in silence for a while, looking at the stars. The sky was vast and dark and indifferent in the way that only the sky can be, and something was soothing about that indifference. Up there, nobody cared about Green Valley, investor withdrawals, fake portfolio managers, or golf club parking fines. Up there, it was just light, distance, and time."Tonight," I said, turning to Adrian, "I'm going to pretend that in another universe, we're lovers. No history, no baggage, no complicated past. Just two people sharing wine on a rooftop." I held his gaze. "Open the bottle."An appreciative glint moved through his eyes, and he nodded slowly before he reached for the corkscrew and opened the Château Rosaire with the flick of his wrist.The cork came out with a soft pop, and the scent of the wine drifted upward immediately, dark and rich and layered, blackberries and woodsmoke and something floral underneath, like roses pressed b
Evelyn POVMy mother loved this wine. It was the one indulgence she'd allowed herself, the one bottle she'd kept on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet for special occasions only. She'd open it on birthdays, anniversaries, the first day of spring. She'd pour herself a single glass, sit at the kitchen table, and close her eyes after the first sip as if the taste transported her somewhere private and sacred that nobody else was allowed to follow.After she died, I spent years trying to find it. Château Rosaire didn't export widely, and its distribution was limited to a handful of shops in Casavera and a few specialist wine merchants abroad. I'd finally tracked down a case through a dealer in Lisaro during my first year running Bennett Holdings, and I'd been rationing it ever since, one bottle at a time, opened only on nights when I needed to feel close to someone who wasn't there anymore.Margaret remembered. Out of everything about me that
Evelyn POVI turned to Adrian, searching his face. He had an awkward expression, and he was stroking his brows. “You were in the middle of a meeting? Why didn’t you say so? You could have said something,” I insisted, suddenly feeling guilty.“It was nothing important,” Adrian sighed, glaring at his mother, who was sipping her tea and trying to hold back her smile. “You needed me so…”“The quarterly review is hardly something I’d call unimportant,” Margaret chipped in. “Last year, Adrian fired a CFO for bringing a phone in, and it rang during the session. You know how intense he can be. If Adrian had left that meeting to come to you, it means he considers you important.”“Mom, that’s enough.” Adrian turned, glaring at Margaret, who just smiled and sipped more of her tea.My heart warmed at Adrian’s embarrassment, and I, more than anyone, knew how intense it used to be around the house whenever it was time for quarterly reviews. In my previous life, he’d walk around irritable, and every
Evelyn POVThe Whitmore family home was set back from the road at the end of a private drive, behind iron gates that opened as Adrian's car approached.The house revealed itself gradually as we drove up the gravel path: first the roofline, dark against the evening sky, then the upper windows, then the full facade, a three-storey Georgian manor built from pale stone with ivy climbing the eastern wall and warm light glowing from the ground-floor windows.Once, seeing this house filled me with so much sadness because either Isabella would be lurking somewhere with Adrian or making my life hell. Other times, I would be trailing after Adrian, trying to impress Margaret, trying to fit into Adrian’s world.I remembered the particular anxiety of waking each morning and wondering what mood he’d be in, the way I'd adjust my schedule and put everything on hold to attend to both Adrian and his mother.Tonight I was arriving in a borrowed car with swollen eyes, a puppy, and an overnight bag I'd pa
Evelyn POVThe silence between us was strange.It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but loaded in a way that neither of us seemed to know how to unload.We'd spent the past three hours in constant motion: phone calls, revelations, Laurence's arrival, the discovery that Prescott didn't exist, the cascade of information, emotion, and crisis management that had carried us from a kerb in a parking lot to a back booth at Carmichael's. And now the motion had stopped, and we were standing still.Then I sneezed.It came out of nowhere, a sharp, involuntary burst that I caught too late with the back of my hand. And then another one, followed by a shiver that ran through me like a current."That's it," Adrian said. "I'm getting you to the car before you catch a cold."He placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the parking area. His palm was warm through the fabric of my blazer, and I let him steer me without protest.We got into the car. Adrian started the engine, and the heater
Evelyn POVThe casual disrespect in the question made my grip on the microphone tighten, but I kept my voice calm. "Yes, thank you all for coming. Please return to your departments."The crowd immediately began filing out, not even waiting for me to step away from the microphone first. They streamed
Adrian POVI stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, watching the shadows shift as dawn approached. The alarm clock on my nightstand glowed 5:47 AM. Thirteen more minutes until it would go off, but I hadn't slept a single minute all night.My mind kept replaying the conversation I'd had with Damien Be
Evelyn POVI was waiting for Adrian to explain why he was here when the door suddenly opened. Grace walked in carrying a terracotta pot with a small rose bush in it."Evelyn, Vincent has received his daily dose of sunlight. I'm here to..." Grace trailed off when she noticed Adrian sitting across fr
Adrian POVThe iPad shattered against the wall with a satisfying crash, pieces of glass and metal scattering across the expensive carpet. I turned to face my trembling secretary, Linda, who was still standing by my desk with a stack of papers clutched to her chest."Is this the only thing you can p







