al ache in her body a distant echo to the chilling void that had opened up in her soul.

aster bathroom, a cavern of marble and glass she rarely used. She kept her eyes fi

arm the ice in her bones. She stepped under the spray, scrubbing her skin raw with a bar of soap, as if she could wash away

of the shower, the hot water beating down on her. She opened her mouth and let o

ocking a memory she kept buried deep inside. The sterile smell of

ash

ythmic beeping of machines. Her mother, Elara, lay in a coma, a pale, still figu

onfessed, his voice thick with shame. His gambling addiction had finally done it. He had bankrupted their fa

other's care was astronomically expensive. Without p

nce at an art gala-Eleanora Beaumont. A woman of immense power and gra

s predicament. She also knew about her grandson, Julian, and his scandalous, public affair with a socialite named Victoria Hayes,

spectable, and controllable wife for Julian to quiet the med

s wife for a minimum of three years, presenting a united front to the public. A specific clause stipulated that t

t also a tiny, foolish flicker of hope. A secret hope that the handsome, distant Julian Beaumo

hback

mocking her from the past. The eighty-million-doll

w-cold bathroom. As she wrapped a towel aroun

chest. Terror, pure a

orway, his eyes scanning the room until they landed

t, purplish marks of his assault. For the first time, a flicker of something unreadable crosse

. "Who was the first man you were with?"Perhaps it was that tiny sh

r out of her stupor. She stared at him, bewildered. The memory of their wed

, a sound that was half sob, half mockery.

off guard. He just stared at her, a strange conflict warring in his eyes. He opened

it came. He strode to the nightstand, snatched hi

turned and left for the

made his cruelty more profound. The assault, coupled with the memory of why she was here, so

s going to