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My chest ached.
My hand came up to his shoulder, my fingers inching to the back of his neck and then his head. My nails scraped over his scalp, the softest caress, the way he liked it. “Grace would have forgiven you if you had promised her to move on.”
His grip tightened on my hips. “She was the only good thing in my life,” he rasped.
As if Killian had finally realized what he was doing, he stumbled away from me. I watched him run a hand over his face, his eyes squeezed shut, his expression pained.
I reached for him, but pulled back right before my fingers could brush over his hand. He took a long, deep breath before his hand fell from his face.
Our eyes locked.
One painful moment.
Two shuddering breaths.
Three broken seconds.
That was how long Killian allowed me to see what he had been hiding behind that cold exterior. The pure misery in his dark eyes.
And then he blinked and it was gone.
Without a word, he spun on his heels and stalked away. I watched him leave, feeling the most painful ache in my chest. My stomach was hollowed and the room swayed beneath my feet.
“Julianna,” Killian said, one foot over the threshold of my bedroom and the other foot still inside. “Three days from now, our thirty nights are over. As per your compromise, we will fulfill the contract, however long it takes, and once you’re pregnant, we’ll go our separate ways, courteously.”
There was no taunting.
No sneers.
No Beasty.
My throat closed, but I found myself nodding. “Deal,” I breathed.
Killian walked away without a second glance.
Once he was gone, I crumpled to the ground and I let the tears fall, not holding back my cries. I let the pain wash over me, felt every crashing wave until my bones were shaking.
I had finally accomplished what I had set out to do.
I’ve torn through Killian Spencer’s façade.
And now…
He could move on.
With someone other than me.
But he’d find love again with someone worthy of him.
And that was all that ever mattered.
Since the beginning.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Killian
The ballroom bustled with voices and laughter. I’ve heard over a hundred congratulations in the last twenty minutes, followed by handshakes and stiff smiles. The curiosity flickered in their eyes, but I did what I was best at.
Eye contact was the easiest and most powerful way to establish yourself in a crowd of vultures and gossipers.
Deliberate eye contact made the other person nervous.
Steady eye contact put me in control – and that was exactly what I did. I dominated the ballroom with my gaze, unflinching, calm and contained. They’d smile shakily and look away first, yielding to me.
At a very young age, my father had taught me how to place myself into political circles and how to make them bend to me and for my advantage. That was exactly why the Spencers were now one of the most influential families in the United States. My father was about to leave a legacy behind, a responsibility that now fell on my shoulders.
A legacy I had to continue… and my heir would be expected to do the same.
Bringing the champagne flute to my lips, I took a slow sip and nodded along at what Senator Richard Machias was saying. He was talking about a recent division in the Senate that had put all the members in a difficult position.
Anything political was messy and chaotic. Some were spiteful and just plain nasty and then we had a bunch of them who just didn’t have any idea what the fuck they were doing.
“Killian–”
Richard said my name, but when the ballroom grew silent, buzzing with antsy energy, I instantly knew who had stolen everyone’s attention.
I looked over to the entrance of the ballroom and my eyes found her.
There was a breathless second.
It confused me.
The way my heart seemed to ache.
Or the way my stomach dipped at the familiarity of this very scene.
Before these uncalled emotions could take root, I shoved them away. Buried my feelings underneath my bones, because I’d rather not feel at all than feel too much.
Julianna Spencer walked in, her shoulders set straight, her chin nudged up as she regarded the room with a regal look, a confidence I had never seen before. But only I saw the slight quiver of her hands as she buried them in her sleeveless, floor-length dress.
Julianna wore a wine-red gown – with a sweetheart neckline that dipped dangerously too low. The satin bodice was a deeper color, cinched tightly around her waist in a corset style. The rest of the gown was flowy and heavy with multiple layers of tulles.
Her hair was put up in a simple bun, with a few stubborn curls framing her face. The heavy diamond choker around her neck gleamed under the chandeliers. But it wasn’t her bold choice of gown or the expensive stones around her throat that caught my attention.
