Julian held Vivienne against his chest as if she were made of spun glass, his hands stroking her hair while she continued to weep softly into his tailored lapel. Nora stood perfectly still, her hands folded neatly over her stomach—protecting the secret life growing inside her, shielding it from the

The walk-in closet in the master suite was the size of a small boutique, lined with thousands of dollars of haute couture. Nora moved through it with mechanical efficiency, ignoring the rows of custom-tailored Croft House gowns, the champagne-silk blouses, and the velvet skirts Julian had meticulous

The reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of the hotel suite belonged to a stranger. Or rather, Nora realized with a quiet sense of clarity, it belonged to the woman she had always been beneath the suffocating layers of Julian’s control.

Gone were the soft, pastel hues he insisted brought out