Chapter 2

Stella had tumbled down the staircase.

One moment she was at the top. The next she was sprawled across Sophia, both of them hitting the marble floor in a tangle of limbs. Pain detonated through Sophia's left leg and skull simultaneously. Something warm and wet ran from her hairline.

She lay still, blinking at the ceiling.

Lucian crossed the room in three strides—and reached for Stella.

He swept her into his arms, voice low and urgent. The room was very quiet. Sophia tried to push herself upright. She couldn't.

Lucian turned.

"You couldn't even keep her safe?" He hauled Sophia to her feet by her arm. "Apologize to her."

Sophia stood on a leg that was screaming and apologized. Ten times, as instructed, while Stella watched with glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't finish Stella's assignment on time. I'm sorry she scraped her hand on the railing. I'm sorry—"

By the tenth apology, Sophia's throat had gone dry and rough. She tasted iron at the back of her mouth.

Then Stella's voice, sweet and light: "Could Sophia walk to the bakery on the west side for me? The strawberry cake there is just divine—you know how delicate those strawberries are. She should walk. The fresh air will do her good."

Sophia was already reaching for her crutch before Lucian could answer.

She made the trip three times that night.

The first time, the cake had cooled by the time she returned. Unacceptable.

The second time, her left foot had opened up and left a trail of blood across the pale marble. Stella screamed at the sight of it, then declared she didn't want the cake anymore anyway.

The third time, it was eight the next morning. Sophia's clothes were torn. Her left ankle had swollen to twice its size. The place where her prosthetic connected to her right leg had worn through to raw flesh. Every step was broken glass in fire.

But the cake was perfect. Not a single strawberry out of place.

She placed it in Stella's hands.

Stella looked at it. Then set it on the floor in front of her little dog, Biscuit.

"Oh, Sophia." Wide, soft eyes. "I hope you're not upset. I just… didn't really want it anymore."

Sophia nodded.

She turned to Lucian. She had been running on pure will for hours. Now she stood in front of him and let herself speak.

"Is this enough?" Level, calm, precise. "Are you satisfied? Can we sign the divorce papers now?"

Her legs gave out.

The floor came up fast and she went down hard. The last thing she saw before the dark took her was Lucian Drake's face—the face she had never once seen break—cracking open with something she couldn't name.

He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands framing her face. His mouth was moving.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare."

She couldn't hear him anymore.

The dark was very quiet. And for the first time in seven years, so was she.