Camille‘s POV I twisted my arm hard, ready to lash out, ready to scream. Then I saw his face. I froze. Adrian Steele. Fiora’s husband. He stood close enough that I could smell his cologne, clean and sharp, nothing like Marcus’s usual scent. His hands were still around my wrist, firm but careful, not possessive, like he was holding something fragile without meaning to break it.“You have no right,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort. “Let go of me.”He released me immediately. “I know,” he said. “But you don’t want to do this. Not like this.”My laugh came out thin and broken. “Do what? Interrupt my husband while he’s kissing another woman?”Behind us, laughter drifted from the pavilion. Marcus’s voice wrapped itself around my chest and squeezed.I looked past Adrian, through the hedge, it was enough to see them.Marcus had Fiora pressed lightly against the stone railing now, her hand holding his jacket. Her head was leaned back, her mouth close to his ear. She looked calm
Last Updated : 2026-01-10 Read more