I clenched my nails into my palms, digging deep, trying to anchor myself against the suffocating pain. But even that no longer hurt.
By the time the bedroom door finally creaked open, dawn had begun to break.
Christopher emerged first, Lisa trailing behind, draped lazily in his arms.
He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his expression tender—so different from the way he looked at me.
Then, his gaze shifted, locking onto me. His voice remained as indifferent as ever.
“Go home.” His words were a dismissal, a cruel mockery. “Didn’t you love being Mrs. Adam? Hope you enjoyed it enough tonight.”
With that, he stroked Lisa’s cheek a few times, whispering something that made her giggle, before grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward the door.
I knew Christopher wouldn’t let me leave so easily.
And sure enough, the moment we stepped outside the hotel, I was ambushed.
A sea of reporters swarmed toward me like ravenous wolves, cameras flashing like gunfire.
I wasn’t at yesterday’s press conference, so they must have been holding back their questions, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
And Christopher had delivered me straight to them—offering me up like prey.