He had just married a woman.
A woman who claimed to be his brother’s lover or more harshly, Arsene’s mistress. Now, he was no longer that lonely, divorced man often gossiped about by idle tongues. At least, he no longer had to throw away money just to satiate his desires on nameless, faceless women whose existence ended the moment he zipped up his pants.
Arnav stood tall before the wide, arched window of his study also functioning as his private library. Tonight, he left the window wide open, allowing the cold night breeze to slip in and cool the growing heat pounding against his temples. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached into the pocket of his trousers, feeling for an object he hadn’t expected to ever hold again.
A pendant.
The same pendant Arsene had once given to Raellyn.
