ODSON

d the legal documents, the divorce papers, like a shield. My destination was Killian' s study, his inner sanctum, a plac

pped in their oblivious bubble of misplaced affection. A moment of hesitation. A tiny, foolish part of me wanted to turn back, to avoid this fi

scle ticking in his jaw. He hadn' t bothered to clean up from the night before, a rare lapse in his usual meticulousness. His e

voice clipped. He didn' t even try to hide

e the tremor in my hands. I held out t

ing his lips. "I' m busy. Whatever it is, it can wait." He brushed past

nsisted, turning to face his ret

the hallway, leaving me standing alone, holding th

e of Killian' s crisp white shirts, the sleeves rolled up, her bare legs peeking out from benea

ng theatrically. "Divorce papers? Oh, Ava, you poor thing. How dramatic. Did you really think Killian would care?"

ose are private documents, Isabel.

k signature line meant for Killian. "There," she declared, holding the papers up. "Consider it done. I' m doing you a f

rged through me. "You

l mine now. Killian loves me. He' d do anything for me. What have you ever gotten from him? Scraps? Cold shoulders?" She stepped

I spat, my voice trembling with su

around? Play the victim? You couldn' t even hold onto your own hu

cted facade to shreds. But before I could, Isabel swayed dramatically, he

was a trap. Her foot snagged mine, and she went down, pulling me with her. We tumbled down the short flight of stairs leading from

ly on my leg, her weight grinding against th

s immediately fixed on Isabel, who was now clutching her head, letting out soft m

lifted her into his arms, cradling her as if she were made of glass. He shot a furious

nt, almost imperceptible moan escaping my lips. The house staff, alerted by the noise, peered out from various rooms, their faces a

t beading on my forehead. My ankle throbbed, a

concern, but not for me. He bent down, carefully picking up a delicate scarf Isa

om the top of the stairs. "Killian, my love, are

eyes devoid of emotion. "Don' t even think about touching this. It' s Isabel' s." He held up the scarf, a symbol

A hollow ache, colder than any winter, settled in my chest. My hands reached for my phone, its screen cracked from the fall. With