Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes, smoothing my skintight gown against my body. The fabric plunges between my breasts, forcing them up and out of my bra before cascading to the floor. “Yes.”
But it hides my back. Always.
I clear my throat and reset my expression, squaring my shoulders. When the door swings open, Parker's disdain slams into me like a fist to the ribs.
God, I fucking hate you.
His gaze crawls over my body, lingering on my chest like he owns every inch he sees. “We'll be late.”
“Wh—” He grabs me around the waist, yanking me against him. His touch burns through silk, forcing himself in places he’s never had the privilege of touching. “Parker, no.”
Every grip burns like lava, erasing Asher's fingerprints one brutal second at a time.
“Stop.”
“What do you mean no?” He tilts his head, burying his nostrils into the crook of my neck. “I can smell him on you.”
He shoves me away like discarded trash, before making his way to the window. “The fact that you're both flaunting your affair should come as a surprise, but it doesn't. I should punish you for embarrassing me this way, Ivy—” He takes a deep breath. “But I won’t. Because the truth is, I don’t love you.”
His shoulders relax, as if saying it out loud is cathartic. Slowly, he turns over his shoulder until he’s facing me. “I don’t love you. I never have. But you will continue this marriage, because if you don’t?” He holds my stare, carefully lowering his now empty glass to the small table between us. “Well, let's just say that I'd advise against it.”
“Why’d you marry me, Parker?” I ask, the muscles in my jaw taut.
He fixes his tie. “I think the better question, Ivanya, is why did you marry me?” A loud rasp on the door pulls us out of what I’m sure was about to be an argument, and Luce’s head pops through.
“You two ready? I would sure love to get these awards done.”
I nod, collecting my clutch and rolling the chain over my hand. I give one last glance over my shoulder before disappearing down the hall with my best friend’s arm in mine.
“Was that the conversation I think it was?” she murmurs as we make our way down the stairs.
I clear my throat. “Yes. He knows. He doesn't want a divorce, and he said I'm to stay married to him.”
“Well—” She picks up the train of her dress as we reach the door. “I guess that's an easy one for you then.”
I take one last look in the mirror, fixing my hair with fingers that won't stop trembling. Fucking trembling. As if I can't get my own shit together.
“Hey!” Luce's hand is on my shoulder. “Don't start.”
The cold bites through my dress the second I step outside, but it’s nothing compared to the way Daniel’s eyes lock onto mine. He’s standing by the car, arms crossed, his breath curling in the frigid air like a warning.
“You armed?” His voice is low, rough—no room for bullshit.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I hike up the hem of my dress just enough to flash the holster strapped to my thigh. The metal glints under the porch light, cold and unapologetic. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods once, sharp, before stepping aside to let me pass.
Luce slides into the backseat first, her dress pooling around her like liquid gold. I follow, the door shutting with a finality that settles in my chest. The car smells like leather and something faintly metallic—gun oil. Or blood. Hard to tell.
Daniel doesn’t look at me in the rearview. Doesn’t speak. Just starts the engine and pulls away from the house, the tires crunching over the frozen driveway. The silence is thick, the kind that presses against your ribs until you can’t breathe.
Luce exhales, her fingers tapping against the window. “You think he’ll show up?”
I don’t have to ask who she means.
“No.” My voice is steady, but my pulse isn’t. It’s hammering against my throat, a traitorous rhythm. “I doubt this will pull him out of the shadows.”
She turns to me, her dark eyes searching. “And if he does?”
I don’t answer.
“Ivy, listen,” Luce starts, but then her eyes shift over my shoulder, watching the streets pass. “Look, just be careful. Parker is clearly on edge, and I just think that…” she leaves her sentence out in the open, because we both know what she's saying.
My fingers twitch against the seat, itching for something to hold onto. A gun. A knife. Him.
Daniel’s eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. He squeezes the wheel before going back to the road. The tension crashes back into us ten fold. The days leading up to this point mean nothing.
Nothing.
I shouldn't have let myself get lost in him.
“I fucked up.” I don't move, don't breathe. “I don't deserve him, Luce. Why the fuck did I allow myself to think I did?”