I sighed, not in the mood for his sarcasm. "Cut it out, Killian. I didn't ask for your drama this early."He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Drama?"I rolled my eyes. "I don't control Tony's actions. If I did, he'd be miles away from our lives. I told him I have a boyfriend; what more do you want?"Killian's gaze remained piercing. "You could've handled it differently. You know, like mentioning that you're married."I scoffed. "And have the media turn it into a spectacle? No thanks. We agreed to keep our marriage low-key."He didn't seem satisfied. "Low-key doesn't mean letting other men think they have a chance with my wife."I crossed my arms. "Excuse me? Your wife? Suddenly, I'm your wife again, and not Ms. Lane? Make up your mind."Killian took a deep breath, attempting to cool his temper. "Mellisa, this isn't a joke. I don't like other guys sniffing around you, especially arrogant ones like Tony."I sighed, realizing this was more serious than I thought. "Fine, I'll be mor

Amidst the vibrant and crowded party, I found myself surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The room pulsated with energy, and I could hear the classical music thumping in the background. Despite the lively atmosphere, I felt a bit lost in this sea of people.I surveyed the room, searching for a familiar face, none of which is a friend of mine. Panic started to bubble up as the realization hit me—I was on my own in a room filled with strangers. Everyone seemed to be engaged in lively conversations, greeting each other with a mysterious pound to the third left chest. It was like a secret code, and I was left out.To make matters worse, my supposed guide into this social labyrinth, Killian's mother, Mrs. Henrietta, was treating me as if I were invisible. I stood there, awkwardly trying to blend into the background, but it was clear that I was a mere spectator in this grand social spectacle.The woman hated me. A lot. I shot a quick glance at Killian, who appeared to be thoroughly engrossed in

We set up for the contest. Killian, ever the silent observer, stepped forward, a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he handed me a bow. It was a beautiful piece, crafted from silver wood and adorned with delicate carvings that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. It was his own. "For you, my dear," he said, his voice laced with a playful undertone. "May the best archer win."My father owned a racecourse before everything else happened. I was raised on horseback. He loved his horses, so he taught me to ride every day. Archery was something I didn't need to pay to learn. A hundred yards from their abbey was designated for it. I grew up doing archery and riding horses; that's why I was so confident in performing stunt double scenes for medical films. I was not to lose to these boys.I glanced at Killian, a silent question in my eyes. He met my gaze with a reassuring nod, his confidence in me unwavering despite the odds stacked against us."Ready to show these boys how it's done?" he whi

The crowd's attention shifted from the bullied girl to our confrontation, and whispers of anticipation spread like wildfire. Killian, realizing that this was a storm he couldn't control, opted for a supportive stance, ready to back me up if needed.I continued, my voice steady but loaded with a sarcasm that could cut through steel. "And let's not even get started on your definition of beauty. If I were you, I'd worry less about appearances and more about the state of your character. It seems to be suffering from a severe lack of decency."As Killian and I stood our ground, facing off against the mean-spirited teenagers who had targeted the little girl with Down syndrome, Killian leaned in and whispered a quick briefing in my ear."House Frank, these guys are the richest gold and oil traders in the country," he murmured, his expression serious. Just as I processed this new piece of information, a woman in her 30s, presumably Colette Frank as Killian had told me, stepped forward. Her d

I gazed at Killian, who was nursing his wounded pride with a generous swig of whiskey. The glass emptied in one go, and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his dramatic display of defiance. He looked like a scolded little puppy, eyes cast down, lips pursed in a pout that somehow managed to be both endearing and comical."You look sad," I teased, leaning against the nearest wall.Killian shot me a side-eyed glance, a mix of irritation and resignation in his ashy eyes. "You think I'm a sore loser, don't you?"I let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over my heart. "I never said such thing."He huffed, a small smile playing on his lips. "But I think so."I couldn't argue with that assessment. So I leaned closer. "You know, Killian, there's a way to find out if you're truly a sore loser or not."His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "And what might that be?"I grinned, grabbing his hand and examining his palm with exaggerated seriousness. "Palm reading, my dear. Your fate lies in the l