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Every bed was made and untouched, and the silence had the specific quality of a place that had been abandoned in order rather than fled from in panic. I walked through it alone, checking each room the way I checked them in life, making the count. Everything in its place. Everyone was gone. Illara was barely alive with a strange-looking dagger lodged in her chest while she begged me to forgive her for making such a terrible mistake. I woke before dawn with the dream still on me, that particular heaviness, and I lay in the dark and listened to the settlement breathe around me and thought about Dahlia's child with the too-fast heartbeat and the healer who wouldn't finish her sentences.

He reached for my hand. This time. I didn’t pull away immediately. “I know I don’t deserve another chance.” His voice shook. “But give me one.” “Just one.” “I’ll spend every day earning back your trust.” I stared into his eyes. For the first time in days. I saw desperation instead of excuses. He wasn’t defending himself anymore. He was pleading. “I want to take you somewhere.” I frowned. “What?” “A date.” I blinked. “A date?” “We haven’t spent time together in weeks.” His lips curved into a sad smile. “Let me remind you why we fell in love.”

Nathaniel, growing irritated, added, “Sylvia, even if you’re doing this just to provoke me, bringing in a beggar as your stand-in is ridiculous. Do you really think this is funny?” Bennett’s brows furrowed as he glanced down at himself. He had been in a car accident on the way and had crawled under a vehicle to rescue an elderly woman, which explained his disheveled clothes and dirt-covered appearance. But to be mistaken for a beggar? That was pushing it. He didn’t bother to explain. Instead, he raised his eyes to his bride. She was elegant and graceful, with a beauty that needed no embellishment. As for her character? That remained to be seen.

he argues. I refuse to seek the help of a warlock. I will kneel down and beg our mate while she eats if I have to. "I will beg her day and night. She can resist Reid's charms but not my stubbornness," I say.

"I've been searching for you these three years." "Isabella was dealt with long ago. She'll never come back to disturb us again." Dealt with? I sneered coldly. Did he think killing Isabella would solve everything? Did he think I would forgive him that way? I just looked at him coldly, saying nothing. Letting him feel despair in the silence. "What do I have to do for you to forgive me?" Alexander was in tears. The once invincible mafia Don now had no dignity left. Kneeling on the flower shop floor, begging for my forgiveness.

Damian said flatly, "Take us to them." They brought them to the room where I was waiting. I was pulling my hospital coat tighter, still pale. I looked up when the door opened. Damian walked in. He stopped. His eyes went wide. I met his gaze and smiled, thin and colorless. "I don't want money." "I want his life in exchange." "Or he could give me my baby back."

If anything, I found it faintly absurd. "Mr. Blackwood." My lips parted, and what came out was the most merciless thing I'd ever said. "Belated love is cheaper than dirt." "Do you really think you deserve mine?" I raised the window. "Drive." The black sedan pulled away. In the rearview mirror, I watched Dominic Blackwood sink to his knees in the freezing rain behind me. I thought that was the best ending our story could have. But then my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cheek, his posture one of pathetic desperation, his voice shaking with despair. "Now, I'm clean. Can you... can you forgive me, just a little?"

A bit cramped but clean and good enough for me. I put down the book and looked through the window, gazing at the starry sky above. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a beggar coming my way. His worn out clothes and dirty skin beg for mercy. He came to the carriage and said, “Miss, I’m starving. Can you give me something to eat, please?” he begged. His hands were shaking. I nodded my head. “Wait a minute. I’ll give you some bread.” I was about to turn around to get the bread, but the beggar grabbed my head in a vise-like grip and pressed a piece of cloth on my nose and after exhaling the awful smell, I passed out.

He has only left me one choice, and that is to beg harder. ===========================