Ethan's knuckles whitened, the bones creaking under his grip as he glared at the message. Blood dripped from his wounded hand onto the floor in sinister, blooming stains. He did not even blink.
An hour later, cold clarity settled over him. He could not afford to confront Vivian yet. That snake still had cards up her sleeve.
That night, he never left the office. Cigarette after cigarette burned to ash between his fingers as he lost himself in what-ifs that tasted bitter. Without Vivian, would he and Quinn have had the simple happiness others took for granted?
Meanwhile, in Granville, Quinn's gloom vanished like fog in sunlight when her Sutherton informant's message arrived.
"Miss Miller." The butler's voice cut through her thoughts. "Mr. Brooks selected these wedding gowns for you. Plea
