Her final glimmer of hope evaporated the instant Carlos finished speaking.
Alicia should've known—this man was merciless, and he'd never let her off easily.
Her knees buckled beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, glassy eyes fixed on the sterile white wall, her mind completely numb.
Carlos's fingers dug into the notebook, his resentment flaring hotter.
"The carvings of love run deep—does she know how deeply I ache?" (an ancient love poem)—his first love letter to her. No signature, just her name—Alicia—scrawled across the envelope.
Each memory only deepened his torment. Burying his anguish deep, he lumbered out of the room, every step heavier than the last.
Back in his study, Carlos seized the phone with barely restrained fury. On the other end, Steven, bleary-eyed, pawed clumsily
