e P

bed. The throbbing was a constant companion these days. I found myself in my own bed, the opulent silk

kfast in her hands. Her face wore a practiced expression of tender concern. "Good morning, darling," she

ull ache in my chest. "Blaire," I ra

oved to a more comfortable room, of course. She's resting. Poor thing." She placed the tray on my bedside t

piercing through her facade. "She was carrying my child, Alessandra,

e's always been a liar, a gold-digger who tried to trap you!" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Remember that first time at the gallery? When she 'fell' and sprained

y mind reeled, trying to sort through her venomous claims. Blaire hating me? Needing my money? It was unt

my head, trying to clear

e's a nobody, Cade. Always has been. And she hates you for it." She laughed, a chilling, mirthless sound. "Honestly, her real plan was

imacy? Ruin me? The thought, once planted, began to fester. What if? What if she truly was capable o

laring. "Get out, Alessandra," I grow

obe swirling around her. "But do try to be more careful with your... 'acquaintances' in the future. Some peo

s. Albright entered, her face grim. "Mr. Dy

"What is it?" I demanded, my voice

er hands, her eyes filled with a nervous apprehension. "Miss

r anger. Alessandra' s words echoed in my ears: "She's always be

aircase, whimpering dramatically, her ankle twisted at an unnatural angle. Her dress was torn, her hair disheveled. "Oh,

azing with a mixture of terror and fury. "I did not!" she yelled, he

shed to the brink. Who to believe? But the image of Alessandra' s crumpled form, her cries, c

ed, my voice laced with a concern that was partly genuine, partly for show. I looked up

cried, her voice cracking with desperation. "L

cameras there, darling," she murmured, a triumphant glint i

in the estate's extensive security system. A deliberate oversight, now that I th

voice cold and firm. "Apologize to Al

tter laugh escaping her lips. "Apologize for being the victim of her malicious lies? Never, Ca

ous anger. But it lasted only a moment. The shame of being publicly chal

? Then you will learn what true suffering is." My eyes hardened, the last vestiges of any lingering affection for her vanis

me. She simply looked at me, her eyes dead, devoid of all light. "You really are a mo

ould have stung, should have filled me with remorse. But it didn't. Only a cold,