Kimberly
My heart slammed against my ribs as I stood frozen in place, unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of me.
Cindy.
On Kendrick’s lap.
She wasn’t just sitting there—she was moving against him, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm, her arms curled around his shoulders as she leaned in close, her lips only inches from his ear.
I felt something cold and sharp twist in my chest.
Kendrick was a lot of things—dangerous, ruthless, and absolutely impossible—but he wasn’t weak.
At least, I hadn’t thought he was.
Yet here he was, sitting there, allowing his brother’s wife to drape herself over him like she still had a claim on him.
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
I refused to let myself feel anything.
Kendrick wasn’t mine. He never had
