Rowan’s POV

I knew in my heart that somewhere, deep down, Sia was not guilty. She couldn't be. I wouldn’t have entered into that pact of a contract marriage with her before our divorce if she was capable of something so evil. But guilt? Guilt had its claws in me long before Sia was ever in the picture. And the memories, those relentless memories, they gnawed at the edges of my sanity.

Lying on the cold floor of my office now, with the sunlight barely filtering through the blinds, I stared at the ceiling. A dagger—cold, sharp—rested in my hand, just as it had in the past. Another death. Another...