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Ten minutes later, Lewis is giving me his card as we step out of the front doors of the police station.
“Wait, so… that’s it?”
He frowns. “No, Mrs. Ransom.”
I stiffen, traitorous heat flushing my cheeks.
It’s the first time I’ve heard my name put that way.
“No, getting you out of there, today, was the goal. Challenging the legal claims is what comes next.”
“I didn’t kill my mother,” I say quietly, swallowing tightly.
Lewis just nods.
“I’ll be in touch.”
Without another word, he’s turning on his heel and walking over to a waiting black Rolls Royce. He opens the front passenger door and slides in.
Instantaneously, the back door opens.
And Noel steps out.
I set my lips, the volatile mix of hatred, fury, lust, and betrayal igniting in my veins.
“I’m not going to apologize for the boardroom,” I snap.
He frowns. “We’ll get to that. First things first is to sort this shit out. Obviously, you didn’t kill your mother.”
“Becauseyou did,” I hiss tightly, gritting my jaw as the rage burns through me.
Noel’s eyes narrow just a little, his lips thinning just a smidge. That’s his only reaction.
“I assume this entire thing is Oliver trying to force hands at the table—”
“I don’t want your help,” I blurt, cutting him off. “I didn’t ask for it, ever, and I donotfucking want it, okay?!”
Noel sighs deeply.
“Swallow your pride. Want or not, you need my help. And you’re my wife.”
Goddamnit. There it is again—that horrible, vile feeling of aching heat when he says that, and calls me that.
The traitorous emotion of need, when all I shouldneedto do is push him in front of a bus.
“Someone is obviously using you to get to me. Prince, maybe.” He frowns. “I do have enemies.”
“Wow, shocking.”
He eyes me, one brow cocked. I cross my arms over my chest, squaring off with him.
“We’re going home.”
The laugh barks cold and brittle from my lips.
“No, we’re not.”
Noel sighs.
