All Chapters of Divorced, Desired, Dangerous : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

DARIENThe heavy silence inside the greenhouse felt thicker than the humid air rising off the damp potting soil.Nilah stood five feet away down the stone gravel aisle, her back pressed flat against the wooden potting table. Her dark eyes were wide, filled with a terrifying mix of raw panic and deep, ancient grief. The small velvet box sat open on the edge of the bench between us, the tiny gold wedding ring gleaming under the soft yellow lights.I was trembling violently. My shoulders felt heavy and crushed under my plain wool coat, and I could feel hot tears burning down my hollow cheeks. I was standing in front of her completely bare—no bodyguards, no guns, no power—just a man begging for his life.Between us, resting on the dark wood, sat the only piece of our past she hadn't destroyed."Nilah, please," I rasped out, my voice shaking so violently it barely sounded like my own. "Don't look at me like that. Tell me what I have to do. Tell me how many years I have to spend on my knees

NILAHThe mountain wind howled like a dying beast outside my small attic window.By the afternoon, the sky over Oakridge had turned from a dull, heavy gray to a pitch-black abyss. The storm had come down off the northern peaks fast and vicious, dumping inches of heavy, wet snow every hour. Through the glass, I could see nothing but a roaring wall of white. Main Street was completely buried, the streetlights swallowed by the blizzard.Inside my tiny attic room, the quiet hum of the electric space heater suddenly sputtered, clicked twice, and died.The small golden light on the front panel flickered out. Downstairs in the main shop, the deep, steady thrum of the greenhouse heating pipes went completely silent.The power grid was dead."Oh no..." I whispered into the dark room.My voice came out as a thick white cloud of frost. Within fifteen minutes, the thin warmth that had kept my room comfortable vanished. The bitter, biting mountain cold seeped straight through the wooden walls and

NILAHThe warm red light from the wood stove flickered softly across the small attic room.Outside, the heavy blizzard kept howling against the glass window, throwing thick white sheets of snow against the dark mountain sky. But inside, the air was warm. The sharp, biting cold had left the room hours ago.My forehead was still resting gently against Darien’s dark sweater.I could hear his heart beating beneath my palm. It was fast, steady, and strong, knocking right against his ribs. The smell of cold wind, pine wood, and dark rain still hung on his wool coat. It was the same smell he always had back in the city when he would come home late from the docks and kiss my cheek while I slept.For three long years, I had locked my grief in a deep, dark box inside my chest. I had wrapped heavy chains around my heart so I wouldn't feel the sharp, cutting pain of losing my baby boy. I had run away to this quiet mountain town, buried my hands in wet greenhouse dirt, and pretended that the past

DARIENThe cold morning sun reflected brightly off the high snowdrifts outside my second-floor window.I sat at my long wooden desk in the brick building across the street from the greenhouse. My black laptop was open in front of me, its small screen showing financial reports and shipping logs from the city. Beside the computer sat a plain ceramic mug filled with lukewarm black coffee.Across the quiet, snow-covered road, I could see the tall glass walls of the greenhouse. Every few minutes, I would look up from my screen and glance through the window.Nilah was down there, moving slowly down the green central aisle. She wore a thick grey sweater, a green linen apron tied around her narrow waist, and yellow rubber boots. She carried a small red watering can in her hands, carefully pouring water over the roots of a row of small fern potted plants.She looked peaceful. The sharp, terrified look that had filled her dark eyes for three years had softened into something calm and quiet.A q

DARIENThe cold wind blew hard through the open window of my black car. I sat parked on the side of the snowy mountain trail, two miles south of town, staring at the dark silhouette of the old lumber mill.My right hand rested on the leather steering wheel. My heavy black bag, holding the paper ledgers, sat on the passenger seat beside me. The metal pistol was heavy and cold under my dark coat.A sharp, high-pitched alarm sounded from the dashboard.I looked down instantly. My private mobile phone, mounted beside the steering wheel, was flashing a bright red light across the dark interior of the car.It was the silent emergency signal. The silent alarm Clara had installed under the greenhouse counter had been pressed.My heart stopped completely. The blood in my veins turned to pure liquid ice.Nilah.I didn't think. I didn't hesitate.I slammed my heavy boot down flat against the gas pedal. The tires spun violently against the snow, throwing white ice into the air, and the black car