Surrogate for My Mafia Ex
I am a man preparing for war, racing to catch an intruder in the act.
I reach the door, a thin layer of moisture forming on my forehead. I grab the doorframe, stopping my momentum, and force myself to take a sharp, steadying breath before looking inside.
All the furious, righteous anger drains from my body in a single second.
Harper is sitting on the plush rug in the dead center of the floor. She is surrounded by a thick cashmere blanket, looking incredibly small and entirely fragile against the backdrop of the massive, meticulously designed room. She looks up at me as I fill the doorway, her beautiful green eyes completely bloodshot, heavy tears streaming rapidly down her pale cheeks.