Isolde could not look at Damien the same way anymore. The confession about the killing kept repeating in her head while they worked in the study. Numbers blurred on the papers in front of her. The collar felt like a chain now. Heavy. Constant.
"You have been quiet all day," Damien said. He leaned back in his chair. "Talk to me."
She kept her eyes on the ledger. "What is there to say? You killed a man. You admitted it. And I am still here wearing this thing around my neck."
He stood up and walked around the table. His hand rested on her shoulder. "I never lied to you about who I am. I protect what is mine. That includes you now."
Isolde looked up at him. "And if I become a problem? Will you make me disappear too?"
Damien’s grip tightened for a second then relaxed. "Never. You are
