From Ashes, A New Love Reborn

y family to protect his ex-girlfriend. He framed my brothe

I stayed. But on the day of the

found out why Hamilton was absent. He was at a pic

was worth less than a puppy. The lov

ind. When he finally tracked me down in Paris, begging me to

ry, have

pte

il

. It was Thanksgiving Day, our first as a married couple, and the smell of roasting turkey filled the ai

e a mixture of confusion and deference. They knew Hamilton. Everyone in New Yor

ept glancing at Hamilton, who was leaning against the marble archway of our liv

trembling. I clutched the torn fabric of my silk dr

ly and sharp. The younger of

e polished floor. He was still in his bespoke suit, not a hair out of place. He looked at the officers with

ou dare," I hissed,

low, intimate murmur that was meant only for me, but loud enough

fficer Peterson, my eyes pleading. "My dress is torn. I have bruises." I p

l wife. He ran a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair. "We had an

the cold wall. The officers watched, their faces unreadable but t

uffocating me. "Tell them, April," he said softly, his grey eyes locking onto mine. "Tell th

r, the consensual part, into a weapon against the violence that came after. He lifted h

at. "That was before! Before you..." I couldn' t say the wo

y ear. His touch felt like a brand. I tried to jerk away, but he was faster, his fingers brushing against my cheek in a p

f our life, of the mundane details of a holiday

oking past him to the offic

"Mr. Jones, perhaps it would be be

rrender. But his eyes never left mine, and in them, I saw a promise of what was to come. He held up the signed divorce agreement I

A domestic dispute. A rich coup

nizing calm. "Why don' t you both take a few hours to coo

t wasn' t a fight. It was the

ion of April Banks, a gifted painter from a respected family, and Hamilton Jones, th

any Mccray

ack. When Hamilton rejected her, she didn't just go away. She plotted. She orchestrated a sophistica

uilt from the ground up, collapsed overnight. The stress of it all, the public shame

t collectors and the loss of her husband and the imprisonment of

hope was Hamilton. I begged him, on my knees, to defend Dudley

me, promised me he

e betr

n the other side of the aisle, a ruthless gladiator, and used his intimate knowledge of our family and his unp

stone, his excuse was a twisted sense of duty. "Brittany was f

her, a debt he repaid with my

s my jailer. He controlled my every move, thwarted every attempt to escape. Once, I made it as far as a private airfield, my escape a mere

enuine, crushing grief. My suffering was an incon

m I was pregnant with our child, and then, a week later, I told him I' d abo

" he' d said. "I didn' t want a child from

es now was the same as the final

icer Peterson' s shoulder. "Thank you for your ti

g them. And they

drenaline shot through me. I lunged for the door, try

abbing me, but blocking the doorway with his body, a casual, imm

mean? She' s

t sliding into place was the sound of my last hope dying. I was al

k gone, replaced by the cold, predator

, dangerous purr. "Let' s talk a