The first full day of Victoria living inside the open secret passed like a held breath that never fully released.

Elena woke in the study on the narrow couch with Marcus’s arm locked around her waist and the thick residual heat of the night still inside her. The lower marks under his forearm ached in the deep claimed way that had become constant. The master bedroom door upstairs had stayed closed all night. Victoria had not come down. The house felt smaller than it ever had—every room occupied by the inventory, the felt sense of the betrayal, the refusal to stop, and the woman who had decided to stay and...