I had already lived through staged car accidents and friends’ betrayals.
That’s why I stopped believing in pillow talk promises a long time ago.
But no matter how ugly things got between Cormac and me, we always kept up the image of being good parents in front of our son.
And yet, for the sake of one stupid woman—that bitch Hillerin—Cormac had broken that principle again and again.
As the car came barreling toward me, I held my son tightly against my chest.
I knew whose car it was—Cormac’s.
For her sake, he was willing to ignore even his own son’s life.
A deafening crash rang out as two cars collided, sparks flying on impact.
Inside the violently shaking vehicle, I clutched my son and tried desperately to stay upright.
But my forehead slammed against the glass, and my vision went black for a moment.
Then, the car door was yanked open.
“Ma’am!”
My assistant dragged me out.
I looked down quickly at my son. Aside from being terrified, he didn’t seem hurt.
Only then did the pain in my forehead register.
With my assistant’s support, I steadied myself just as a figure emerged from the twisted wreck of the car opposite us.
It was Cormac. His face was a mask of cruel fury as he strode toward me.