Chapter 3

Pain shot up my spine like a live wire. My vision went white. Warm liquid soaked through my skirt instantly—not trickling down, but blooming into a shocking dark stain of red.

"Adrian, don't misunderstand. Gianna didn't mean to..."

"You're still defending her!"

"I've had enough of her stunts since she was a kid!"

Adrian bent and lifted Summer into his arms. His gaze swept over me, cold as a Boston December wind.

"Gianna, apologize."

"Adrian..."

"Shut up and apologize."

Summer curled against his chest, letting out soft, pitiful sobs.

I looked at the frail woman in his arms. Then down at my own trembling, bleeding knee.

The pain was blinding, but it was also a blade, severing the wire that had kept me tethered to him for seven years.

When the pain peaked, my heart went numb.

I stared at the blood on my hands. I wasn't thinking of him. I was thinking, "It's over. All of it."

A laugh escaped me. Light as a sigh.

"I apologize."

Adrian froze for a beat, thrown by how easily I gave in. But then the darkness in his eyes sharpened, like his fist had landed on cotton and it only pissed him off more.

"Not good enough."

I braced against the wall, forcing myself upright through the searing ache in my knee. Then, lifting a skirt I wasn't wearing, I gave him and his woman a cold, precise curtsy. My hair fell forward, hiding the last glimmer of light in my eyes.

"Will that suffice, Mr. Valentino?"

Summer looked at me, the corner of her mouth curving.

Then she turned back to Adrian with a sob, voice soft with false mercy. "Let it go, Adrian."

"I don't deserve that."

Adrian's heart ached for her instantly.

"Gianna, I told you. Summer is different."

"You bully her, it won't make me leave her."

"It'll only make me care for her more and despise you more."

He carried Summer and walked away.

I stood there alone for a long, long time.

The wound on my knee throbbed.

But my heart felt hollow. Light.

I knew it then.

In that single moment, all the obsession, all the blind devotion—it shattered like glass hit by a bullet. Gone. Never to be pieced back together.