My Billionaire Husband's Web Of Lies

ly

ide, dropping to his knees on the filthy ground without a second th

th a tenderness that felt like a physical assault on my own heart, he took out a silk handkerchief and began

under her lashes, a tiny, triumphant smirk playing on her lips for a fraction of a second befor

und her waist. Once he was sure she was unharmed, he

growl. "I know you don't like her, but to physically attack her? After a

trivializing the trauma that had shaped my teenage years, defending the

to let it go," he said, dismissing my pain with a wave of his hand. I

with her, Killy. It's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed her to be friends so soon

ad fallen from my bag. It held the few precious things of Leo's I'd come to ret

r movements graceful and poised. She reached for a small, hand-painted clay

d then, as her eyes met mine, sh

ac

gunshot in the tense silence. The painted bird, Leo' s la

rage and grief tore from my throat. I lunged at

r reac

ut to shove me away from Dallas. The force of the push sent me stumbling backward. My heel caught on

the curb. I cried out, cradling my wrist, the s

e. He stood protectively in front of Dallas, completely ignoring the f

ords ragged. "He made it for me. I

buy you a hundred of them. A thousand. I'll commission a famous artist to

weak voice full of joy. He didn't remember promising Leo he'd put it on his desk at th

profound, soul-crushing exhaustion. There was

in time with my shattered heart. I didn't even look at them. I j

lled after me. "Don't be

. He leaned across the passenger seat, his face set in

. Numbly, I opened the back door an

ice as she recounted some trivial celebrity gossip to Killian. He responded with low murmurs of interest

t to Killian containing old, embarrassing photos of me from my high school yearbook. The "accidental" spilling of red wine on the dress my mother had worn at her

thoughts. I looked up just in time to see the blinding headlights of a massive truck b