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penthouse. Averie Fletcher made one last adjustment to the silver candlestick, i
d three years since she ha
at the clock on the wall. 8:30 p.m. He was an hour and a half lat
h, a jarring buzz in the quiet room. Her stoma
number, and it made the air leave
zed. It was just a string of
notification. A photo attached. Every instinct screamed at her not to o
he co
tapped the screen. The ima
intimately on the chest of an expensive, custom-tailored suit. Averie's he
It was a massive sapphire, surrounded by diamonds, an heirloom she had only ever seen in old photographs of Jare
blur of sterile whi
y in the front do
bag from a luxury brand dangling from his fingers. He saw her, then his eyes took in the elaborate
, I'm
l weight in her chest, making it impossible to breathe, let alone
shed, replaced by a flash of annoyance. Not guilt. Not su
s voice sharp. Then he seemed to
with a rage so deep it felt like it was freezing her from the inside
tone slicing through the tense silence. The name on h
at Averie, his expression harden
She lunged forward, her hand reaching for h
ved he
e edge of the dining cart, the impact rattling a crystal vase. Red roses, the ones she'd bought this
ation from the cold man who had just pushed her. It was low and gentl
ay. Don't be scar
e mess of flowers and her, standing pale and trembling by the ruin
gging it on as he headed for the
shaking but loud enough to make him paus
to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes were devoid of any emotion
ck, opened the do
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