Page 170 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
The penthouse is too quiet, the skyline too still. I sink into the chair by the bar, the ring burning a hole in my pocket, my fist clenched around nothing. Isla’s gone. Brennan’s gone.
They’re gone.
And all I’ve got left is the man I never wanted to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Isla
With a groan, I throw my arm across my eyes to shield them from the late afternoon sun that’s creeping through the blinds.
How can it be so bright and cheery when my entire world has collapsed?
A few hours ago, I curled up on my lumpy couch, and I’ve been here since. Calypso is tucked against me, her soft purrs a faint reminder that life continues, despite my internal devastation.
My eyes are swollen from tears that haven’t stopped since I arrived home and locked the door behind me yesterday morning.
And my heart… I exhale a great big, shaky sigh. My heart is shattered.
The first thing I noticed when I walked into the living room was how lonely it was.
I’ve gotten accustomed to inhaling the scents of leatherand whiskey, and the dark, spiciness of power that Dorian wears as comfortably as he does his tailored suits.
When I was at the penthouse, there was always the steady sound of their voices in the evening.
And the low, sexy rumble of Dorian’s never-ending sensual demands.
Without really being aware of it, I’d settled into my life. Since we returned from our honeymoon, Brennan always poured my first cup of coffee, sometimes even bringing it to me in the bedroom. I loved my office that I’d decorated the way I wanted. The space had cozy nooks to sit and read, along with an amazing desk where I could work.
The evenings were reserved for my men and going out.
Then returning home…
A fresh wave of tears stings my eyes.
The heavy silence hanging in the atmosphere reminds me how very much alone I am.
Funny.
When my father forced me down the aisle, I was heartbroken at the idea of giving up my small apartment and the life I’d proudly carved out for myself.
But now?
Fleeing from Dorian and Brennan has wrecked me.
Calypso nudges my chin, and I stroke her soft fur. But for once, I’m not soothed. As much as I was hoping that I could just slide back into my old routine, I can’t.
I’m no longer the same woman I was before Dorian and Brennan stormed into my life.
A knock at the door jolts me upright, and Calypso’s tail flicks.
My pulse spikes—Dorian? Brennan? But they wouldn’t knock politely. They’d pound or tear the door down.
After nudging Calypso aside, I tiptoe to the peephole. It’sMargaux, her dark hair loose, a grocery bag in her arms. Relief and dread twist in my gut.
Yesterday afternoon, she’d sent a second text, wondering if I’d decided what to do about the pictures she found.
During the exchange, I’d ended up telling her that I’d ended my marriage, but I didn’t give her many details.
