I couldn’t run.
I couldn’t scream.
I couldn’t face four people who had been planning my death for days.
That was exactly what they wanted.
To panic.
That I did something impulsive.
Have him make a mistake.
But there was something Flynn forgot when he married me.
I was never just an heir.
Before managing my family’s estate, my father taught me something that no money could buy:
Patience.
And that night, patience would be my only weapon.
I went back to the room before anyone noticed my absence.
Every step was a struggle.
Medicine kept clouding my mind, but fear had created a strange clarity.
I lay in bed.
I closed my eyes.
And when Flynn came in twenty minutes later, I pretended to be completely asleep.
I felt it coming.
I felt her fingers pulling my hair away.
The same gesture that for years had been confused with love.