Blake stood in the doorway like an avenging angel gone wrong, his usually perfect appearance completely destroyed. His hair was wild, his clothes wrinkled like he'd slept in them, and his eyes... his eyes held the kind of madness that came from a man who'd lost everything and decided to take the world down with him."Where is she?" he demanded, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Where's my wife?""Ex-wife," Dominic corrected, his voice deadly calm as he stepped between Blake and my gurney. "And you have no right to be here.""I have every right!" Blake's voice cracked on the words, and I could see the fine tremor in his hands that spoke of someone who was barely holding himself together. "That's my baby she's carrying. My child. My blood.""Only family is allowed in here Mr Reynolds." Dr. Martinez said coldly, her professional demeanor cracking to reveal the fury underneath. "Security is already on their way. You need to leave. Now."But Blake wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on me
I woke to fire.Not the kind that burns buildings or destroys empires—the kind that tears through your body from the inside out, ripping apart everything you thought you knew about pain and leaving you gasping for breath that won't come.The cramping hit me like a freight train made of molten steel, starting low in my abdomen and radiating outward until every nerve ending in my body was screaming in harmony. I doubled over in the massive bed, my hands instinctively clutching my stomach as if I could somehow hold my baby safe through sheer force of will.Something was wrong.Terribly, catastrophically wrong."Dominic," I gasped, but my voice came out as barely more than a whisper. The silk sheets beneath me were damp with sweat, and when I shifted, trying to find a position that didn't feel like being stabbed with white-hot knives, I felt something warm and wet between my legs.Blood.So much blood.Terror crashed over me in waves so intense they made the physical pain seem almost seco
Later, after we'd found our way to the bed through a haze of gentle touches and whispered conversations, I lay with his arm heavy across my waist, the weight of it more comforting than I'd expected.He was asleep beside me, his face peaceful in a way I rarely saw when he was awake. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and in sleep, he looked younger, less burdened by the weight of empires and enemies.But I couldn't sleep.Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones, in the way the silence felt too heavy, too expectant.Not with Delilah—she was finished, destroyed by her own rage and desperation.Not with Lydia—she'd retreated with whatever dignity she had left, licking her wounds in whatever hole she'd crawled into.But Blake...Blake had looked at me tonight with the kind of rage that came from a man who'd lost everything and had nothing left to lose. The kind of fury that made rational people do irrational things.The war wasn't over.It had just shifted battlefields.Two f
The mansion was still, wrapped in the kind of profound silence that only came after a war had been fought and won.The last guests had finally departed, their voices and laughter fading into the pre-dawn darkness like ghosts of the evening's triumph. Lights dimmed throughout the grand halls. The orchestra had packed away their instruments. The army of servers had cleared away the crystal and china that had witnessed my transformation from scandal to queen.And I stood alone in our bedroom, still wearing the red gown that had become my armor, my weapon, my declaration of war.The silk clung to my skin like a second layer of exhausted flesh, the weight of the evening's victories and revelations pressing down on my shoulders. My arms ached from holding myself perfectly composed for hours. My body throbbed with the memory of tumbling down marble stairs. My brain felt wrapped in cotton, fogged by champagne and adrenaline and the intoxicating rush of watching my enemies destroy themselves.
He didn't announce himself with words. He simply materialized behind me like smoke and shadow, sliding one strong arm around my waist and pressing his lips against the sensitive spot where my neck met my hairline.The touch sent shivers racing down my spine, and I melted back against the solid warmth of his chest."You're quiet," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot enough to make me dizzy."I'm thinking," I replied, my voice coming out softer than intended."About what?"I tilted my head back against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine. "How easy it is to shift from villain to victor in the span of a single evening. How quickly people's opinions change when they realize they've underestimated you."He turned me in his arms, his hands settling on my hips with possessive certainty. His eyes were dark and unreadable in the dim light, but there was something fierce burning in their depths."You didn't just destroy them tonight," he said, his v
The gala should have ended hours ago, but victory has a way of stretching time like taffy, making every moment sweeter and more intoxicating than the last.I was sitting quietly in one of the velvet chairs in the east corridor, my body still aching from my tumble down the stairs but my spirit soaring higher than it had in months. The adrenaline from exposing Lydia and Delacroix was finally beginning to fade, leaving behind a satisfaction so deep it felt like sinking into warm honey.The remaining guests moved around us in small clusters, their voices hushed with the kind of reverence reserved for witnessing history being made. The air still crackled with the electricity of what had just transpired—the public destruction of two women who'd thought themselves untouchable, the elevation of a woman they'd tried to bury.That's when Dominic's security chief appeared, his face flushed and slightly breathless from running through the mansion.He looked straight at Dominic, his voice carrying