His Lover's Dawn, My Cold Floor

a Yor

, or cared. Especially not Dayton. It had been three years since he' d forgotten, the same year he' d left me waiting alone at our anniversary dinner to rush to Kris

d we' d spent the night talking, truly talking, about our dreams for the future. He' d looked at me that night with an unguarded tenderness that had made my heart swell. He' d even written me a small, silly poe

ng Kristin. It was a betrayal that felt sharper, even after all this ti

me. It was a vicious cycle of remembering what I once had, realizing w

r onto the polished floor. He moved with a languid grace, his body toned and lean. He glanced ar

d sometimes, for our rare, private dinners. I knew exactly where it was. It was always in the third drawer of his dresser, tucked be

ss over his ties. It was a silent act of devotion, a way to show my love when words failed. He used

voice flat, devoid of emoti

surprised. He turned, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "You're still here? I thought you'd b

ted to discuss Donavon's proposal again. He truly believes Project Phoen

is own head. The man has a knack for grand ideas and disastrous execution. I told you, Alyssa, I'm not inte

cker of irritation in my voice. "It's a genuine opportu

resources on ventures that have a 90% chance of failing, just to appease your cousin. Our family's reputation is built on sound

implication was clear, and it was a direct hit to my already bruised dignity. A stinging heat rose in my cheeks. He truly saw me as nothing more than a tool,

est efforts, "this isn't about... personal favors. It's ab

icture, Alyssa. And right now, Donavon's project isn't it." He paused, then tilted his head, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Unless... you want to sweeten the deal. I could b

in my throat. The pain was so sharp, so sudden, it almost took my breath away. He was using our supposed reconciliation, the very thing

, my voice barely a whisper

space. Here. At the mansion. As the devoted couple. To truly sell the illusion. If you can manage that,

en my heart was screaming in protest? It was a cruel demand. But Donavon, my fami

is eyes. "Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I

mbled, catching myself on the edge of the dresser, a sharp pain shooting through my alread

lk blouse, slightly askew, revealed the faint scar on my collarbone from that night three years ago. For a fleeting moment, a shado

s touch, though brief, sent a jolt through me, a ghost of the intimacy we once shared. "

"I'm fine," I said, my voice a little roug

"You're living here now, aren't you?

yes," I confirmed, my gaze s

on the west wing. Always said the morning sun was too bright in the master." He paused, his eyes glinting. "Perhaps we should maintain the

y heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate for es

leaving the same bedroom? And besides, it's just for three months. A temporary inconvenience for a significant gain, wouldn't

perate need to secure my freedom and protect my family

the master bedroom tonight. Don't disappoint me." He walked out, t

ho had systematically broken my heart, the man who still held another woman's hand with such tenderne

k to me, the only sound his steady breathing. I lay stiff and still, staring at the ceiling, every nerve ending sc

ved, his back still to me. "Thinking about your next architectural masterpiece? Or perhaps your valiant

inking about how exhausting this all is," I replied truthfully,

f a multi-billion dollar empire, managing a public image that's always under scrutiny, while also trying to

, to escape the suffocating presence beside me. I pretended to be asleep, my breathing slow and even. It fe

houlder, then a soft brush against my hair. I instinctively flinched, my eyes snapping open just in time to see Dayton' s hand retreat, his body shift

mperceptible touch. Was it curiosity? Or something else? I held my breath

side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool beside me. He was gone. A fam

Goodwin had posted just an hour ago: a selfie, her face pale but serene, a faint smile playing on

the dutiful wife, waiting for my three months of freedom to tick by. The cold realization settled deep in