KLAUS’S POV
The memory of Gina’s lips against mine burned like a brand. I had kissed her—crossed a line I had no right to cross—and yet, I couldn’t purge the sensation from my mind. The way her breath had hitched, the way her body had softened against me for one fleeting, stolen second before she pulled away.
The tremble in her fingers, the faintest parting of her lips—not just in shock, but something deeper. Something that made my chest ache. And I didn’t deserve it.
Regret coiled in my gut like a serpent, tightening with every breath. Not just for the kiss, but for everything. For standing by five years ago when she walked away. For standing by now, while her son—our son—fought for his life in a hospital bed.
I shoved away from the desk, my fingers dragging down my face as if I could
