Ronan's hand froze midair. Seth used the opening to shove him back and braced himself against the wall to stand. "Take your men and get out."
But Ronan was already staring at the documents in his second's hand.
He pushed Seth away and rushed madly into the study.
On the desk, the documents about my accident were laid out everywhere.
In every photo, I was covered in blood—some so badly mangled that my face was unrecognizable.
I only glanced once before turning my head away.
My death had been an ugly one. The car had been crushed badly. My legs were folded up, my head was stuck against the steering wheel, and only one blood-stained hand hung outside the car door, with a wedding ring still on my ring finger.
Ronan picked up the photo. "That isn't her."
No one answered. He flipped to
