Chapter 2Drowning The Woman Who Saved You

Everett's brow instantly knotted.

"Why do you always have to be so bitter?" he snapped, exasperated. "I've told you a hundred times, you will always be Mrs. Conway. Alyssa is just giving me what you never could. I'm a man, Naomi. I wanted one woman in my life who was wholly, entirely mine. Can you really fault me for not wanting to live with that regret for the rest of my days?"

I stared at the sharp, aristocratic line of his jaw.

"A regret."

So that was what our life together had become.

We had grown up together in that dilapidated church orphanage on the outskirts of the city, our roots tangled so deeply we couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. We were each other's armor, each other's only home.

When the pantry ran empty during the winter, he would drink gallons of tap water to stave off the hunger pangs so that I could have the last heel of bread. He was so gaunt his ribs pressed against his skin like barrel staves, his little belly bloated with cold water.

Back then, I swore to God I would protect him with my life.

So ten years ago, when an enraged loan shark came looking for Everett with a butcher knife, I didn't hesitate. I stepped in front of the blade. I lured the monster away into an abandoned warehouse and gave him the only currency a penniless girl had: my dignity.

I traded my body so Everett could live.

When he finally found me in that warehouse hours later, he wept so violently he threw up blood. He fell to his knees, his forehead pressed against the dirt, swearing he would murder the man with his bare hands. He gathered my broken body into his arms and swore he would marry me, swore he would worship me until his dying breath.

The thug went to prison. And I locked the truth away in the deepest vault of my chest.

Everett had loved me with a reverence that bordered on madness; knowing that I had been destroyed solely to save his neck would have crushed him under the weight of his own guilt.

And now, a decade later, that same Everett looked at me and called my sacrifice an "irreparable regret."

A lone tear slipped down my temple, hot and silent. My heart felt like it had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler—crushed into dust, beyond all hope of repair.

"Come on," Everett urged, already unbuckling. "Don't keep Alyssa waiting."

I dragged my bruised, aching body upstairs, wanting nothing more than to wash the alley dirt from my skin and change into fresh clothes.

But when I pushed open the door to my walk-in closet, it was gutted.

The racks were bare. The custom gowns, the jewelry, the keepsakes from our early anniversaries—all of it had been cleared out. Down the hall, I found my things shoved carelessly into cardboard boxes in the dusty utility closet, tangled in cobwebs.

The housekeepers kept their heads bowed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Mr. Conway said Miss Alyssa would be staying for a while," one whispered. "She needed the space."

I didn't have the energy to fight. I waved them away with a tired hand.

Just as the door clicked shut, fingers hooked violently into my hair from behind, jerking my head back until my scalp burned.

Alyssa's breath was hot against my ear.

"Tell me, Naomi," she purred, her voice dripping with venom. "Who was better? Your first man, or Everett?"

My vision flared white with pain.

"They say a woman never forgets her first," she whispered, her lips brushing my earlobe. "Just like I'll never forget Everett taking mine. You must have missed that convict terribly, haven't you? By the way, tonight was my idea. You should really thank me for the reunion."

Rage and agony ripped through my nervous system, leaving me paralyzed.

Before I could even wrench myself free, the grip on my hair vanished.

Alyssa threw herself backward with a theatrical gasp, crashing onto the hardwood floor and pulling a rack of heavy coat hangers down on top of herself.

"Naomi!"

Everett's roar echoed down the hallway.

"I have indulged you far too much."

He shoved past me so hard my shoulder hit the doorframe. He dropped to his knees beside Alyssa, frantic.

Alyssa was sobbing hysterically, trembling as she clawed at the silk robe she had stolen from me.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Conway! I'm sorry! I don't deserve your things! I'll take it off, I'll take it off right now, please don't hurt me!"

She ripped the fabric down, exposing her pale shoulder to the air while the housekeepers awkwardly turned their faces away.

Everett quickly pulled the robe back over her, his expression thunderous.

Alyssa buried her face in his chest, shaking like an autumn leaf. "She didn't do anything... it's my fault. I'm dirty, I'm a whore, I shouldn't be wearing such expensive things. Please, Everett, let me go..."

That pathetic, trembling act poured gasoline straight onto Everett's fury.

He slowly turned his head toward me, his eyes dead and venomous.

"You really don't learn, do you?"

My fists clenched until my short nails bit into my palms. My voice shook. "If I tell you I didn't touch her, would you believe me?"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" He looked at me with profound disgust. "And to think, for a second in the car, I actually thought you were remorseful."

He leaned down, pressed a tender kiss into Alyssa's hair, and whispered, "Which cheek did she hit last week, sweetheart? Go on. Take it back."