เข้าสู่ระบบI'm frozen in the entryway, my heart hammering so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "I was just—""Just what?" He doesn't move from his position by the window, but his stillness is more terrifying than any movement could be. "Having drinks with a colleague? With Edward Martinez?"How does he know Edward's full name? How does he know anything about tonight?"He's just a friend," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "A colleague from work.""A friend." Amiir repeats the word like it's something distasteful. "Since when do I allow you to have friends, Lara? Did I give you permission to make friends? Did I say you could go out drinking with strange men?"I feel anger flare through my fear. "Since when did you care about anything I do? You're never here. You're always out doing whatever—whoever—you want. But God forbid I have one drink with a coworker after the longest week of my life."The words are out before I can stop them, months of resentment spilling over."And besides," I
[Lara's POV]"Did you just..." I stare at Edward, my heart still pounding from what just happened. "Did you just talk back to Amiir Blackwood?"Edward's calmly wiping coffee stains off my dress with paper towels, completely unbothered by the fact that he just committed what most people in this building would consider career suicide. Did he just defend me? The words come out as a whisper because no one has ever done that. Not since my parents died. Not once in this entire nightmare. "Edward, you don't understand what you've done—" "I understand perfectly." He tosses the stained towels in the trash and looks at me with those warm brown eyes that seem incapable of fear. "What I don't understand is how a gorgeous, intelligent woman like yourself ended up married to a man like that. It doesn't make any sense." "Nothing in my life makes sense anymore."The words slip out before I can stop them, and I immediately regret the vulnerability. But Edward just smiles—not with pity, but with so
It's been unusually quiet in the house lately.No tantrums from Lara, even when I've deliberately provoked her. Even her cooking has become shockingly edible after that salt disaster three weeks ago. It's as if she's finally accepted her fate, resigned herself to this marriage.And I can't stop waiting for the moment she'll finally crawl into my bed.We don't have all the time in the world. Every day that passes without her carrying my child is another day closer to them questioning the marriage's validity.But I can't shake this feeling that something's wrong.Lara's been glowing lately, and I know damn well I haven't contributed to that development in any way. I've checked the CCTV footage from the penthouse obsessively. Nothing unusual. She goes to the office, comes home, eats dinner in silence, locks herself in her bedroom.So where is this new lightness coming from? This brightness in her eyes that wasn't there before?... "Sir? Are you listening?"Cordelia's voice cuts through
"Amiir, my man, you shouldn't be doing this. Please listen to me. I was forced, man. You know I would never go against you."I watch Michael squirm under the grip of my men, his face already swelling on one side, blood trickling from his split lip. He looks pathetic. They always do when the consequences finally catch up with them. "You knew the consequences of going against me," I say, my voice flat and cold. "But you agreed to it anyway. That means you're a big man, Michael. So now you should be able to handle a big man's punishment. Shut the hell up and take this spanking like the fucking man you claim to be."I spit to the side as my tobacco stick burns dangerously low between my fingers. Klein's call ripped me away from Henry's warmth barely an hour ago, dragged me from the one place where I can pretend to be human for a few stolen moments. Now I'm standing in this freezing warehouse in East London, watching a man I trusted betray me.And I am going to fully unleash every ounc
Amiir's POVI ring the bell for the third time, my patience wearing dangerously thin. My heart hammers against my ribs—not from fear, but from need. I've driven two hours through late evening traffic to get here, to the only place in London where I can breathe without the weight of a thousand expectations crushing my chest.Just as I lean forward to ring again, the door swings open.Henry stands there, shirtless and beautiful in the golden lamplight spilling from inside. My breath catches despite myself. But he's blocking the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, that stern look on his face that I've come to know too well. "You should be at home with your wife, Blackwood." His voice is cool, controlled. "What are you doing all the way out here in the Brooks, outside your safe city?"A small smile tugs at my lips. "I missed you too, Henry."I know this game. He does this angry-hurt routine whenever too much time passes between visits, and every single time, it's adorable in a way tha
My hand trembled on the doorknob to Amiir's room. I'd been standing in the hallway for ten minutes, working up the courage, the kitchen knife heavy in my other hand.I turned the knob slowly, grateful when it moved without sound. I slipped inside, my bare feet silent on the plush carpet.The room was dark except for moonlight filtering through the curtains. I could make out the shape of him in the bed, a large form under the duvet, completely still. Sleeping peacefully.My heart hammered so hard I was sure it would wake him. I forced myself to breathe slowly, quietly, as I crept across the room toward the bed.This was insane. But what choice did I have? I was the crazy and delusional wife after all. So now he's going to see what real crazy looks like.I reached the bedside, raising the knife with both hands. The blade caught a sliver of moonlight.Do it. Just do it quickly. I brought the knife down hard.The duvet gave way too easily. No resistance. No sound except fabric tearing.I







