Part 3The Husband Who Stole My Memory

Blood on the Porcelain

Damon’s gaze swept coldly over Blair.

But his trembling hands betrayed him.

After a long silence, he spoke:

“Viv, I apologize for her. I’ll make this right.”

“What will it take for you to calm down, so I can get her out of here?”

A sudden, sharp killing intent surged in my chest.

He could talk a good game. He could act cold. But in the end, he was still protecting her!

I expressionlessly swept every vase, every porcelain dish, off the nearest table and onto the marble floor.

Damon didn’t hesitate. He kicked off his shoes.

Barefoot, he stepped onto the shattered porcelain.

Step by step, he walked across the floor and picked up Blair.

The sight of the crimson blood mixing with the white porcelain made my vision blur.

Damon Blackwood was a madman, but he was an extreme self-interest first.

Since I met him, he had only ever suffered pain or loss for me.

My gaze chilled, inch by inch.

Damon didn’t know I’d gotten my memory back.

And he certainly didn't know—until that precise, sickening moment—that I might have actually fallen for him.

But now...

A terrible husband, and the woman who tried to steal him.

They would both pay a catastrophic price.