And now he wanted to perform “devotion” in front of me?
Or am I that cheap—
the kind of woman who knows he has someone else in his heart and still cripples herself to climb toward him?
I let out a cold laugh, rolled up the window, and said, flatly,
“No need, Mr. Cole. I’ll handle my own affairs.”
“As for you and Clara—wait for me.”
“What the Hayes are owed, the Hayes will take back.”
The driver slammed the accelerator.
We rammed the Porsche without hesitation and sped toward Newport General.
Adrian stood beneath the streetlamp in a black coat, hands bloody,
stiff as a post.
After surgery, when I woke from anesthesia,
my lieutenants had already compiled a list of those who’d defected to Adrian.
“Miss, please review.”
“We’re monitoring Adrian—he’s still at the hospital. No movement.”
On the big screen, Adrian and Clara were perfectly visible.
They tried to block my view, but I insisted on getting out of bed and staring at the feed.
On screen, Adrian was holding Clara fresh out of surgery.
He touched her gruesome wound with aching tenderness.
“Clara, the doctors said you’ll be fine.”
“For me—bear with it a little longer, okay?”
Clara’s face was pale; hatred swam in her eyes.
