The CEO's Final Gift

aughter drifte

ghter. Light

acked boxes. She had moved in here to give them the master suite. It

murmur, Hettie's excited replies. They were talking about

confirmation of

door, her body moving on autopi

om. Hettie was curled up on the sofa, her head on Brady's lap. He was

domestic bliss. A picture she h

her. A triumphant little

with false sweetness. "I'm so glad you're he

ttie's hair. He looked at

unced. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a decree. "She has

," Hettie cooed, tapping his chin. "It's

his gaze fixed on

ing sure she understood her family's

at asset," Karissa said.

ar too long after the merger. It must have been so awkward for you, working for him. People mi

as painting Karissa as a bitter ex-wife, a potential corporate spy.

not at Hettie,

warning. "It's better for everyone that you're makin

of silent, thankless work. He was publicly humiliating her, siding with the wom

Karissa said,

upstairs, but Hettie

nce. "My legs are so sore from all the excitement. Would you min

ctor. The only person in th

p immediately

ake that tea for her. On the rare nights when the pain in her joints was too much to bear, a symptom

te gesture of care was

g, the sound of the kettle boiling. Then, Brady's voice

tairs. She didn't need a glass of water

m door and leaned agains

it. The f

heir life together had been real. It was a

ave. Not tomo