Mara
Lucian’s trust humbled me—and electrified something deep in me. He didn't just see me as his wife. He saw me as a partner. An equal. Someone capable of standing beside him, not behind.
Darian and Lucian seemed more at ease today, less strained than before. Maybe the conversation by the lake had done something. Maybe Darian was finally letting go. I hoped he was. For his sake, and for Tiffany’s. She deserved better than being second choice. And selfishly, I missed the friend Darian used to be. Maybe we could get back there someday.
But now—Jones Danewood.
I pulled a chair across the floor and sat in front of him, crossing my legs slowly, deliberately. Darian and Rowan had left their mark—bruises, a swollen lip, a deep gash just under his eye. Their style was familiar. Precision lac
