Violet closed her eyes and leaned against the window, unwilling to watch their little performance.
When they arrived, Grayson ignored Ruby’s expectant gaze and arranged for her to stay in the guest room on the second floor.
Back in their bedroom, he brought out iodine and bandages, gently tending to Violet’s wound.
“Violet, I know you care about me,” he signed. “But how could you refuse the doctor’s treatment? If this leaves a scar, I’ll feel terrible.”
After dressing her wound, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I won’t let you get hurt again. Today, I acted on impulse when I saw my employee being harassed. I didn’t think. After all, someone attacking my employees is the same as trampling on my pride. How could I let that slide? You understand, don’t you, Violet?”
If Violet hadn’t known the truth about him and Ruby—if she hadn’t caught the flicker of possessiveness and rage in his eyes—she might have believed him.
But she said nothing, only signed that she was tired and wanted to rest.
Grayson, as if following a routine, brought her a glass of warm milk and gently patted her back to lull her to sleep.
Deep in the night, a thunderclap jolted Violet awake.
Half-asleep, she instinctively reached out for the warmth beside her, only to grasp empty sheets.
The chill against her fingertips cleared her mind in an instant.
She got up and left the room. The moment she reached the second-floor landing, she heard a woman’s soft gasps.
Her steps faltered, the bitter taste of realization settling in her throat.
She moved forward, one slow step at a time, until she reached the guest room door.
It was wide open.
Under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, two naked bodies entwined, their movements intimate and unrestrained.
