e," Christopher said, reaching for her hand. "That's all I'm asking." Ashlyn stepped back. "Like the chance you gave me before humiliating me in p

tense." His hands found her shoulders, massaging gently. She flinched. "I'm fine." "Your body says otherwise." His fingers worked at a knot in her neck. "What's wrong?" "Just tired. And hungry." "Then let's fix both." He guided her to the dining room. "I've canceled everything tomorrow." "Richard, you don't need to-" "Non-negotiable, my dear." The next evening, Steven White's 80th birthday celebration was in full swing. Christopher paced near the grand staircase, checking his phone every few minutes. "Stop that!" His mother grabbed his arm. "Haven't you caused enough scandal?" "She'll come." "After what you did? Breaking off the engagement so publicly?" "Mother-" "The papers are still talking about it! 'White Heir Dumps Fiancée for Illegitimate Knight Daughter.' Do you know how that makes us look?" Christopher ran a hand through his hair. "I can fix this." "How? By pacing like a madman?" "By-" His phone buzzed. An unknown number: "Want to know the truth about Ashlyn's accident? Meet me in the garden in 10 minutes." Another message followed: "Bring the file your father has. The one about t