Three days after Julian’s passing, the sky suddenly cleared.
Ethan leaned against my doorframe with a bottle of milk in hand.
He was dressed in a black trench coat, looking as composed as ever.
That was the thing about him–on the surface, he always appeared refined and put together.
But who knew just how rotten he was on the inside?
His gaze stayed on me as I drank the milk slowly.
Then, like always, he reached out, intending to ruffle my hair.
This time, I dodged him.
+15 BON
hapter 12
If I were to look closely, Ethan had a small beauty mark at the corner of his eye too.
His dark gaze swallowed me whole like waves pulling me under.
I stared at him.
Did he know Julian was dead?
Had he been involved?
The drizzle from a passing sun shower seeped into the room, soft and damp.
Ethan lowered his head, watching me for a moment before kissing me.
I hated how well he knew my body and the lingering warmth of his touch.
My teeth grazed against his, breath tangled, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears like a war drum.
“Ethan Chambers, I’ll drag you to hell with me.”
“I’m already there, Miss Quinn.”
I married Ethan, receiving a chorus of false blessings from so–called family and friends.
He indulged me endlessly.
No matter what I asked, he said yes.
I had casually mentioned the heat, so he flew me to Frostvale on the other side of the world.
There, the snow–capped mountains never melted, and winter was in full bloom.
