the top step of the porch, took a deep, steadying

y. She walked into the dining room, pulled a fresh copy of the divorce agreement from her handbag-she'd print

se that had been a lie from the start. With a smooth, deliberate motion, she slid the ring off her finger. There was no hesitation, no

. Her eyes held no love, no hate. Only a vast,

ential downpour. The rain soaked through her clothes in seconds, cold and relentless. She didn't have an umbrella. She didn't run for her

ion blurred. She couldn't tell if it was the rain or her tears. Her mother's locket, her husban

ckled. She w

ger door opened. A tall man emerged, holding a large black umbrella. He wore a black suit, tailored close to his frame.

r best friend,

her from the storm. Chloe looked up. Through the curtain of ra

rain. The calm in his dark eyes shattered for a second, replaced by somethi

nd rough, as if it had traveled acros

itched forward. Dante dropped the umbrella without a thought, his arms shooting out to catch her, pullin

aced with a barely concealed regret as he lifted he

uniquely his, Chloe's consciousness began to fade. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a profound sense of safe

penthous

nte looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, the fa

ssion tur