Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 5

Lara's POVI have just made the biggest decision of my life at twenty-four years old. Or maybe I should call it what it really was—my biggest mistake, wrapped in white lace and sealed with a signature I could barely force my hand to write. Married to my distant cousin. On paper, legally bound in a ceremony that felt more like a funeral than a wedding.I should be in mourning right now. I should be wearing black, not white. I should be grieving the brutal deaths of my parents, whose assassinations I had witnessed just two months ago in a scene that replayed behind my eyelids every single night when I tried to sleep. But instead, here I was in my so-called matrimonial home, legally bonded to my fucking cousin Amiir Blackwood.The rage I'd been containing all day finally broke through. "Argghh!" The scream tore out of my throat. My hands swept across the dresser, scattering expensive makeup and skincare products someone had arranged so neatly. Glass bottles shattered. Powder compacts

I'd been in the kitchen for six hours straight preparing an elaborate dinner for Amiir's business associates because apparently being his wife meant being his unpaid chef, and maid.I'd made everything from scratch. My feet ached. My back screamed. But I'd be damned if I gave him the satisfaction of proving that I couldn't handle even the basic tasks he'd assigned me.It was perfect. I'd tasted everything multiple times, adjusted the seasoning carefully, and made sure every dish was exactly right.Now I stood at the head of the formal dining table, watching as Amiir's guests who'd barely acknowledged my existence when they arrived—took their first bites.The man closest to me immediately spit his food back onto his plate. "Jesus Christ," he sputtered, reaching for his water glass. "What the hell—"Another man made a gagging sound, his face contorting. "Is this a joke?"The third man didn't even swallow, just grabbed his napkin and discreetly deposited the lamb into it. "I think...

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