Chapter 2

Holden didn't come back until well past midnight.

Serena was leaning against him, fragile and pitiful: "You brought me back here — what if Mrs. Blackwood finds out? She'll kill me."

Holden pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I texted her that I had something at the office. At this hour she's definitely already asleep."

He paused. "Even if she found out, it'd be fine. I'll protect you and Noah."

Serena's face showed no sweetness. Instead, a flicker of horror crossed it.

Holden seemed to sense something. He looked up sharply.

The crystal chandelier swayed. Quinn was standing on the staircase, her gaze cool as still water: "Where are my macarons?"

Holden froze.

Quinn descended the steps slowly, as if something had just clicked into place: "Oh. You weren't out getting macarons. You were picking up your first love and your son."

A trace of panic moved through Holden's eyes. He scrambled for an explanation. "Quinn, let me explain — Serena was released today. She has nowhere to go. I couldn't just leave her on the street."

"She's already served her sentence. She's Noah's mother. I can't watch her become homeless."

Quinn moved as if she hadn't heard a word. She stepped around him, raised her hand, and slapped Serena hard across the face.

The crack was sharp and clean.

"That one's for my daughter."

"Quinn!" Holden's voice went cold.

Quinn didn't flinch. A second slap landed.

"And that one's for me."

Serena collapsed against the wall, her cheek swelling red, her voice breaking apart: "Mrs. Blackwood — I know it was my fault that Abby's location got out. But I've already paid for it. Is it really a crime to want your own son to live? Please — give Noah and me a chance."

Quinn raised her hand a third time. Holden's fist clamped around her wrist like a steel trap.

"Enough!" He snapped. "Serena was a victim too, back then. Why are you being so petty?"

He had apparently forgotten. When he'd first found Quinn after three years apart, he'd wept and told her he'd been wrong — that he'd been a fool for clinging to his first love, that his obsession had cost Abby her life.

The memory of Abby made Quinn's eyes sting. "Get out of my way!"

When Quinn still moved to strike, Holden panicked and shoved her — a hard, thoughtless push.

Quinn hadn't braced for it. The back of her head connected with the corner of a cabinet. Warm liquid seeped through her hair, dripping steadily.

Holden didn't notice. He was already crouching beside Serena. "Are you alright?"

Serena shoved him off theatrically, her face a mask of despair: "I knew it. Mrs. Blackwood has no intention of letting me go. Fine — I'll pay for Abby's death with my own life!"

She threw herself toward a marble pillar. Holden lunged and caught her.

He turned back to Quinn, his eyes full of hurt and reproach: "Abby's gone. She's dead. Are you going to push a living person to her grave over someone who can't come back?"

Quinn almost laughed.

She thought of years ago — of dragging Holden out of a burning building after an explosion, his designer suit reduced to ash, his sharp face covered in soot. His eyes had found hers through the smoke, and something had lit up in them.

Six months later, he asked her to marry him.

She'd been so happy. She'd teased him: "Are you sure you really like me? Or is this just the result of the bridge effect — you're in love with whoever saved your life?"

"Neither." His eyes had been so warm. "I like you because of the way your eyes look at the world. Marry me. Give me a daughter — she'll be just as beautiful and brave and smart as you are. I'll give her everything."

Quinn had said yes.

Years later, she found out the truth: he'd said that because her eyes reminded him of Serena.

And now, standing in front of Serena Thorne, even the daughter he'd once cherished with everything he had had become, in his words, "someone who can't come back."

Quinn met Holden's gaze. Her eyes ached. Her voice came out rough: "You love Serena so much. You love her son so much. Why don't you just divorce me and let me go?"

The word "divorce" hit him like a live wire. His expression turned terrifying: "Don't even think about it. I let you run once. Never again."

"Marcus — take my wife to her room. She doesn't leave without my permission."