ia said coldly, her voice ec

by the window, a glass of bourbon in his hand. His jaw was tense, his shirt sleeves rolled up t

"Then you came t

"Your father made his threat clear. He wants me gone.

ed. "And what are yo

. Control over what's mine. My mother's

, the words low and dangerous. "P

ted. He se

ought

be your perfect wife. We'll smile for the cameras, attend events together, wear

hem. The scent of leather and cedar filled her lungs. "That's n

spiked. "Wha

s all in. Every kiss. Every touch. Every lingering

. "You don'

"And I never will. B

unsaid things. Then he lifted a fold

ew co

er her name. Protective clauses woven in. But laced through every

a slow sip of bourbon. "You

the folder. "And when doe

cold, cruel. "St

eorgia descended the grand staircase in a crimson gown

ack. He didn't offer his arm. Instead, he brushed a kiss along her

e

eirs, and socialites. Georgia felt every eye burning into her back, every g

ispered fake endearments. But when he looked at other women, his charm didn't falter. A laugh he

spotted Vivienne across the room. The look

e the fi

arm. Georgia barely recognized the woman as a minor heiress som

urned to another guest, laughed at some

h. The chandelier light dimmed as she stepped

ng alr

whir

dows, hands in his pock

was

ut don't worry, you played your par

"Isn't that wh

the wall. "Not when yo

n he ki

for

r the

, one at her waist, the other buried in her hair. She didn'

kissed

a mo

way, his gaze li

e rough, "don't make me re

n he wa

silence. The gala's glamour had tur

corridors, pulled by memory and confu

e a forgotten cathedral. She slipped inside, craving

esk. But curiosity, or someth

edges. It was her and Weston. H

gers tr

re you

slammed th

, photo st

n't me

d, stepping into the ro

he photo. "Yo

ean you were me

ree strides. "You always

hide what matter

od inche

s?" she asked

Because sometimes I like to remember wha

r thic

ruin us,

u l

e me no

cracked be

he kissed

ungry. Not angry. It was laced

ssed h

door cre

broke

d at the threshold, a

et me in

ght. Weston's hand t

inside, closing th

smile nev