Page 45 of A Sinful Gravity

My voice grew louder, echoing in the room. "That man's? Or—"

Halfway through, I choked on my own words. I didn't dare say what came after "or," didn't want to hear the answer.

She fell silent. Maybe the silence itself was the answer.

"Fuck!" I lost control, punching the wall, feeling blood surge from my knuckles.

Chloe rushed over, stopping my second punch.

"Cassian! Stop acting like a madman. I know these years have been hard for you. But what about Luna?" She glanced at my hand, then back at my face.

"You have no idea what she's been through. What gives you the right to expect her to just... accept you?"

I didn't answer. Because I didn't know. Those six missing years were blank, my fault, and I had no rebuttal.

"I understand you want to ask about the child." Chloe's sharp gaze fixed on me. "But have you considered—even if she is yours, what can you do by charging up there? What makes Luna believe you can treat them right? Besides, you're divorced!"

"No! We're not! I never signed that damn paper!"

"Oh my God... you lunatic..."

"Luna is my wife. Always has been! No one can take her from me!"

"What's the point of telling me?" She laughed mockingly. "You stand here spouting this useless crap. Can she hear you? Will she forgive you? Idiot."

"Chloe King!"

She shut her mouth, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. As she passed me, she slammed her shoulder hard into mine.

The door closed. The restaurant fell deathly silent. I slid down the wall to the floor, breathing deeply until reason returned, then got up and left.

Back in the car, I sat in the driver's seat, not starting the engine for a long time.

Chloe's words pissed me off, but once I calmed down, I understood. She was right. I needed to control my emotions and take action to win Luna back.

Now, Luna was back. We were in the same city.

I narrowed my eyes at the lawn outside the window; the image of the child playing there burned into my mind.

But then I thought of Seb's interactions with them, Luna's reliance on him.

Jealousy flared again, but this time it made me clearer-headed.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my private investigator.

"Hey, Charlie." My voice was eerily calm, like the quiet before a storm. "I need you to look into someone... Sebastian Loran, principal at the Royal Ballet in London."

"Got it, Mr. King."

I hung up and leaned back in my seat.

Washington's afternoon sun was blinding, like mockery.

Divorce papers? I'd never signed them.

Legally, she was still my wife.

The child... no rush. I'd take this slowly.