Divorcing The Cold Heir: Watch Me Rise

lit when she ret

ve television. He was still in yesterday's clothes-a rumpled designer shirt and dark trou

dn't look up. His voice, when

ded to co

r quietly and slipped off her shoes. "This is my home, too

with a look of pure derision. "Explain what? That I

aited. "That's not what I'm talking about, Barrett. We're

t of scotch into a crystal tumbler, his movements smooth and almost lazy. Nothing about him was loud. That was what made him worse. B

A tiny, orange-and-white cat with wide, curious eyes. It trotted o

that turned alleyways into rivers of black water. She had just finished another brutal shift when she heard a weak cry coming from beside the dumpsters.

space. But the apartment had been too silent when she came home. Too polished. Too empty. The kitten had stumbled across the marb

a ridiculous little bed he refused to use. For the first t

cat, and the mocking amusement on his face vanished,

is voice was soft, controll

s, stroking its soft fur. "His name is Nacho. I fou

e. "I fired Brenda. I

ightly. "You fired Brenda? W

w, gleeful voice while she thought Elena was still at the hospital. Poor Mrs. Harding, she had said. The man comes h

s. Barrett's empty side of the closet. Elena had stood outside the kitchen, listening until her hands went cold. Then

our marriage," Elena said, her voice unwaver

er. It closed, layer by layer, until there was nothing human left in it. "

ember. But you're only here a few times a y

he wrong t

crystal against marble sounded louder than a shout. Then he crossed the

hadow falling over her and t

emained even, almost bored. He pointed a f

shocked. "What? H

apartment. Especially not that." His tone

he had so carefully prepared for him flashed in her mind. The plate, still si

hen. She opened the refrigerator and took out th

g," she said, her voice flat. She

lip curling in disgust. "Yo

It slid across the marble, a piece of egg falling on

re than any of his words. It was her af

tmosphere, leaped from her ar

s to get rid of it," he said, his voice quiet enough to be mista

g in the air,

seless. He wanted control. He wanted

hat seemed to come from his very soul. And all the pain, the humil

was

ice devoid of all emotion.