Blood pooled into the gaps of the tiles, and the metallic scent was thick enough to make me nauseous.
Yet, I turned away, picked up the divorce papers from the table, and handed them to him.
"Sign it. We only registered the marriage, but the ceremony never happened. No one else really knows. It’ll be simple.”
It was like I’d struck him with lightning as the color drained from his face, and he shook his head violently, reaching for my hand. “No, Amara. I’m not signing. I love you. I only love you!”
But I stepped back, and he fell forward onto the floor.
Then his gaze caught the fruit knife on the table. Without a word, he grabbed it and stabbed himself in the stomach.
Grayson had built his empire in the shadows. He’d always been ruthless, even with himself.
He stopped the servants from calling a doctor, stopped the guards from coming near. Instead, he just looked at me, bleeding out, and smiled weakly. “Does this make it up to you? If not, I’ll stab myself again.”
I stared at the blood spilling from his wound, then finally lowered my eyes.
“Divorce,” I said quietly. “Or the baby in Alyssa’s belly. You can only keep one.”
The smile on his face froze.