JAXON
“Isla.” I moved toward her slowly, like she might bolt. “You– you came. Somehow I knew you would.”
“I needed to see you. To understand.” Her voice was steady, controlled. “Eight years, Jaxon. Eight years of promises. Of ‘just a little longer’ and ‘when I have power’ and ‘you and me, always.’”
“Isla–”
“When did you sign the contract with the Harringtons?”
The question hit like a physical blow. “What?”
“The engagement contract. When did you sign it?”
I could lie. Should lie. But something in her eyes told me she already knew.
“Six months ago,” I admitted.
She nodded slowly, like I’d just confirmed something she’d suspected. “Six months. And in those six months, how many times did you tell me to be patient? How many times did you say ‘soon’? How many times did you let me beli
