Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 91 - Chapitre 100

SABLE'S POV:I watch Kier from across the room and I feel nothing.He is sitting in his chair, staring at nothing, a glass of whiskey in his hand even though it is only three in the afternoon and he didn't go to his company today. He has been drinking more and more lately, and it shows. His face is puffy. His eyes are bloodshot. His hands shake when he reaches for his glass.This is not the man I seduced at that charity gala three years ago. That man was powerful and confident and rich. That man had a future. That man could give me the life I deserved.This man is now a shadow of himself. A failure.I think about the day I decided to pursue him. I had done my research. I knew about his wife, Celestine Smith, a nobody with no family and no connections and no money. I knew about his father's death, about the empire he had inherited, about the billions of dollars that were now under his control. I knew that he was vulnerable, lonely, desperate for someone to see him, really see him, the

Sable's POV:I have been packing for hours. My bags are by the door. The baby's things are in the car. Everything is ready.He sees the bags and his face contorts. Something flickers in his eyes, something that might be fear or might be anger or might be the desperate realization that he is about to lose the last person who is willing to tolerate him."You are not leaving me," he says, grabbing my arm. His grip is too tight and his fingers digging into my skin. "You are the only one I have got. You and my daughter. You are not leaving with my child."I look at him. His face is red. His eyes are wild. He looks like a cornered animal, lashing out because he does not know what else to do.I feel nothing, not fear or any pity. Not even disgust anymore. Just a cold certainty that this man is nothing to me, has never been anything to me, and I am done pretending otherwise."The baby is not even yours," I say.His grip loosens. His face goes pale."What?""I was pregnant and I pinned it on

Lysander POV:The night air is cold and damp, the grass wet under my shoes. The security guards are still holding Kier down, but they are not hurting him, just restraining him, keeping him from stumbling toward the house. Kier is crying now, ugly broken sobs that shake his whole body, his face pressed into the grass."Let him up," I say.The guards look at me, hesitant. "Sir, he is drunk and volatile. He could be dangerous.""Let him up."They release him. Kier struggles to his hands and knees, then to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His face is red and swollen, his eyes wild, his clothes rumpled and stained. He looks like a man who has not slept in days, who has not eaten in weeks, who has been hollowed out from the inside.He looks like nothing now unlike the man who was here before."Lysander," he says, and his voice is slurred, broken. "Please. I need to see her. Just for a minute. I need to explain to her. I need to apologize.""You need to stop," I say quietly. "You need to accept

CELESTINE'S POV:FEW DAYS AGO:I discovered I am pregnant seven weeks after our honeymoon and my first feeling was not joy nor excitement but feeling of terror.It hits me like a wave, cold and sudden, washing over me before I even have time to process the two pink lines on the little plastic stick. My hands start shaking. My heart starts racing. My throat closes up and I cannot breathe and I have to sit down on the bathroom floor, right there on the cold tiles, with my back against the tub and the test clutched in my fingers.I think about the last time I saw two pink lines. I think about the hope I felt, the stupid, desperate hope that a baby would change Kier, would soften him, would make him see me. I think about the clinic in Connecticut and the ten minutes that changed everything, in fact everything.I cannot do that again. I cannot go through that again. I cannot lose another baby, cannot make that choice again, cannot survive that grief again.But I also cannot imagine telling

CELESTINE'S POV:Only then does he crawl back up my body, kissing me so I can taste myself on his tongue. His cock is hard and heavy against my thigh, but he doesn’t rush. He braces himself on his forearms, looking down at me with those stormy gray eyes full of love and raw desire.“You’re everything,” he whispers, nudging the thick head of his cock against my entrance. “My wife. My whole damn world.”He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me open with that perfect burn I’ve come to crave. We both moan when he bottoms out, fully seated inside me. For a moment he just stays there, forehead pressed to mine, letting me feel him—thick, pulsing and completely mine. Then he starts to move.Long, deep, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside me. It’s not frantic fucking; it’s making love in the truest sense. Every stroke feels good, like he’s pouring years of devotion into me. I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him even deeper.