ella

ather Marco was a man who had heard the confessions of murderers and thieves for thir

e thin and reedy in the cavernous silence of the cathed

cked on mine, dark voids that swallowed the light. There was no affection in them, no lust. Just

d of emotion, yet it carried to the back of t

iamond Alex had given me-a ring chosen by his mother. This was a thick b

d shockingly hot against my cold fingers. He slid the ring onto my fi

ned to me, sweat beading on his forehead, "tak

ack. I felt Sofia Moreno's sharp eyes dissecting my posture. But mostly, I f

my chin

r Marco rushed the words, desperate to end t

ke, replaced by a murmur of shock and awe that rippled through the pews. I was no longer Isabella Carlson, the discarded fianc

essive silence. Damien didn't speak a word to me in the car, nor di

any and shadows. The room smelled of him-sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and t

doors behind us, the click of t

table where a crystal decanter of scotch sat. He poured a glass bu

voice steady despite th

ensure my new wife understands her reality." He turned then, his gaze sweeping over my wh

. "I have a son to discipline and a mess

im his marital rights. He left me alone in his bedroom like

holding, my legs finally giving way as

lack uniform stepped in. It was Elena, Sofia Moreno's personal maid and eyes within the ho

at me, her lips pursed. "You ha

ated, replaced by the cold instinct of survival. I couldn't afford to

g up to meet her gaze. "Alex would have m

You are a child playing in a graveyard. Do

am. I am not the Carlson girl anymore. I am the woman who saved y

ken aback by the

hat was harder than steel. "But you will do it silently. And when

until she looked away, her

derstand?"

icking up the empty tr

he title echoing in the silence. Mrs. Moreno. I had won the first battle, but as I lo