Page 3

“Give me a name, and I promise I’ll make him disappear,” he tells me with an air of confidence. “I give you my word that you’ll be free.”

I almost let a hollow laugh slip out.

No one can take down my husband.

He’s an unstoppable force.

Not because of who he is, but because of who he surrounds himself with: monsters that make him appear tame.

Maybe if this stranger knew who he was, he wouldn’t make such promises in the dark that he’ll never be able to uphold.

He’d get up and leave, letting me shatter alone.

But for some reason, I don’t want this man to go.

I want him to…stay.

My eyes travel over his watch, and I remain silent as I observe the second hand tick. Once it’s gone fully around, I part my lips, ready to say something… Anything to keep him here a little longer with me. But he beats me to it.

“I should go.” He lifts his hand, holding it between us under the divider, palm up, waiting for me to place my hand in his.

The gesture leaves me stunned.

If Garrett ever found out I touched another man, he’d make me pay for it in ways I don’t even want to imagine.

But curiosity gets the better of me, and as if a magnet is pulling me to him, I slowly untangle my arms from around my legs and rest my trembling palm against his. Warmth engulfs me as his fingers close carefully around mine, impossibly gentle, like he’s handling something fragile.

Something broken.

I can’t remember the last time someone touched me without cruelty behind it. That knowledge sends more tears to my eyes.

His thumb brushes slowly across my knuckles, each pass easing the panic strangling my chest.

And for the first time since I entered this room, I breathe in a lungful of air.

If only I could keep my hand in his forever.

But all good things must come to an end.

The loss of his touch leaves an unexpected chill across my palm as he finally pulls away.

“If you ever need anything,” he says quietly, “call me.”

A small white business card appears beneath the divider, held between his fingers. Cautiously, I take it and watch with an unfamiliar disappointment as he rises, tosses the toilet seat cover into the trash, and exits the stall.

I stay perfectly still, holding my breath while the sound of running water fills the restroom. A second later, the faucet shuts off, and the door closes behind him.

Only once I’m certain he’s gone do I finally feel brave enough to look down at the card in my hand.

A soft gasp slips past my lips when I see the name scrawled across in gold foiling.

“Alessandro Alarie,” I breathe, my eyes widening. He’s an Alarie. My heart flutters faster.

A family feared by many while revered by all as the rulers of the northeast. Ruthless. Untouchable. Cruel.

But not once did I feel an ounce of fear while he sat beside me.

Not once…