ora

avy oak doors of our

the vast white marble floor. I kicked off my heels. My bare feet

had paid half a million dollars for that custom oil painting of us during

ny bookshelf, I pulled a thick encyclopedia of hockey h

of numbers. The heavy steel do

alds he had bought to match his team colors. I reached int

ters at the top read: Prenuptial and Fixed-T

re of the man who had brokered this marriage-the late Bar

tton. The machine spit out the warm pages. I stapled them together a

. Heavy, rushed footsteps ec

tie loose. The cloying scent of the hospital's VIP luxury candles clu

ing from the study and

," Darrel snapped, his dar

contract across the smooth wood of the d

at the cover page.

harsh, mocking laugh. He planted both hands o

al tonight was just a negotiation tactic, wa

im. My eyes were

id evenly. "The contract

of a second. Then, he thre

his dramatic, attention-seekin

he stack of papers. They flew off the desk, scatt

r desperate games," he sai

teps, Jayme's signature ri

dropping into a sickeningly sweet, gentl

earpiece. "Darrel... the doctor says there might b

pun around, completely ignoring the paper

the side table and spri

The sound echoed violently

eather chair. I looked at the

ared at the date, silently murmuring a few unfeeli