Too Late For Regret: His Telepathic Wife

ir'

ember, that sapphire hun

kitchen table, she quietly took it from her neck and handed it to a jeweler on the pawn row.

national auction. He came home in the middle of a workday, knelt on

st my ear that afternoon, his voice thick, while

e left you. I will never le

two fingers, dangling it in the air as though i

his eyes glittering with malice. "You don't want to be Mrs. McGowen anymore? Fine. Then you have no right t

of my mother's only remains. "The penthouse is yours. Every cent in the joint accounts is yours. I'll sign any waiver of assets you pu

air. "On that pathetic PR salary? Blair, you couldn't work for three li

ack to me and l

You work eighty hours a week for the Aspen expansion. Yo

y arranged itself into shock and distress. "Mr. McGowen... I couldn't. Th

held firm, sliding a glance

ust say that if I put it on you, you'll stay-just say one w

fell to one side and bared the smooth line of her neck. My diamond bracele

sten it, Arianna looked past his

ed a few poisonous words, soundlessly:

endurance, of silent surrender, of every humiliation

her like a

, and lunged for the chain b

shed the cold met

ed Arianna's shoulder, she let

trical arc, twisting her heel on the polished hardwood, and sl

ering glass ripped

, struck the sharp edge of the marble, and bounced

und of breaking echo

he delicate platinum prongs were bent outward, and the rose-c

m went utt

lbow, sobbing hysterically. "My arm! Oh my God, Mr.

ned sapphire, his eyes wide w

rious gaze

woman!"

at what was left of my mother's pendant-his heavy p

across the waxed floor, my lower back cracking again

ain tore thro

ony from deep inside, churning in my womb, so violent it drove the

n itself, both hands pressed hard to my be

rather destroy your own mother's keepsake than see another wo

faking! She's trying to get out of paying for the pendant. She's trying to force

the air. "It hurts so much, Mr. McGo

r of my wool coat, and dragged me

y through my lower belly. "Easton, stop! S

the building's spare supplies were kept. "You assault my executive assistant and smash a four-million-dollar antique, and no

he heavy fi

ore spare liquor, dehumidifiers, and off-season supplie

e cold concrete floor and skinned

my head toward the door. "I'm ble

re of cruelty and panic. "When you've figured out how to apologize t

ire door sl

gave a cold, mechani

, but through the small observation window I could only watch as Easto

t out, and the whole penthou

aking quietly through my underwear, spread