Melissa stood by the tall window of her lavish bedroom, arms folded tightly across her chest, but not out of cold. The moonlight poured in like liquid silver, painting the marble floor in soft hues. The wind outside whispered softly through the trees, but the only sound echoing in her ears was Alec’s voice—raw, wounded, laced with pain that refused to stay buried.
She had seen many sides of Alec Blackwood—the arrogant billionaire, the ruthless husband, the man who commanded fear with a single look. But tonight… tonight, she had seen a crack in the armor.
His rage had been monstrous. Yes. His actions, terrifying. Yes. But his voice… it trembled.
She replayed the moment when he had stared at his bleeding palm and spoken those words—“There are some wounds that can’t be healed, no matter ho
