Hazel’s POV
I sat on the couch in my room, legs tucked under me, a half-full glass of red wine cradled in my right hand. The liquid swirled slow circles as I tilted the glass—deep crimson catching the firelight like blood. It looked pretty.
Almost peaceful.
Dimitri leaned against the far wall, arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised in that way he did when he was waiting for me to explain myself.
“So,” he said, voice low and amused, “how did it go? Did he agree to the divorce?”
I let out a short, dry laugh.
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
He tilted his head.
“He said never. Told me not to bring it up again. Even said he’d do anything I asked.”
Dimitri’s other eyebrow joined the first.
“Anything?”
I smirked, slow and wicked.
“Anything.”
He pushed off the wa
