Chapter 317
Her baby boy would be born here, she’d thought. He’d go to the school down the block and play soccer in the big field where the tonen held its to He’d grow up happy, safe, loved.
But tonight as she lay curled up on her worn old couch, sobbing so hard she thought the might break
she realized it had all been a be
The safety she’d built here was an illusion. The peace she’d found was slipping through her fingers.
And Victor Remington was still out there
–
still powerful, still untouchable- and still winning.
–
Tonight, she would allow herself to break. Tonight, she would cry until there were no tears left until the pain, the bitterness, the anger were wr
tomorrow, she would have to die. her completely. Because tor
Not in the literal se
and call Victo
ould have been too easy. Tomorrow, she would have to do something far worse. She would have to pick up the s ld have to beg him the man who had destroyed her life, humiliated her, threatened her – for mercy. For mone
–
the chance
And
survive.
er was left of her pride, her strength, her very self – it would die.
aiting for her anywhere. No one was thinking of her, wonderi ng that mattered. And so, she would keep going, even if it
‘t sure how much time passed before the hunger woke he er that there was still someone who needed her. Someon
- d. No one depended on her. Except the Ge
companied by a kick from the baby inside ben. A small,! protect them.
smiled through the ache in her chest, brushing a har
ling herself up from the couch, she reached fo xed mashed potatoes. It wasn’t much, but
he sound of the microwave hummi
he saw him.
he homeless man
I hear you,‘ she whispered.
cheap, easy meals that didn’t require much chart Cad pasi
there, arms wrapped around herself, staring out the window and that was wher
shift shelter of cardboard boxes and tatterit costs on the benhavn the stove. The thin and beside him, neatly placed, was the plate and lock the glow in this morning. Lik
51 of the year the snow hadn’t stopped balling unce dusk, and the west mide was shady bankered, ough the glass
pested and fiery.
not from sadness for herself this time, but by the man out there, so ahne, so expoard And yet still holding onto
just maybe someone would care enough to bring him another meal besude bin bike maybe
1/2
6:16 pm
Chapter 317
She looked down at the warm plate in her hands, then back at the man outside.
And maybe it was the desperation of her own situation. Maybe it was the crushing loneliness – the suffocating weight of knowing tomorrow would rip away the last bit of control she had over her life. Or maybe it was simply because she knew exactly how it felt to be discarded, forgotten left to the cold with no
one coming to save you.
Her life here in Montera Springs was going to end soon. She knew that. The fragile little sanctuary she’d built was already slipping through her fingers. So
what harm would one last act of kindness do?
If everything was going to fall apart, she wanted to go out knowing she had done something good.
The mow outside was too thick, the cold too dangerous. She couldn’t risk venturing out there
there was something she could do.
–
not when she could barely stand without feeling dizzy. But
Taking a deep breath, Andrea walked to the front door and opened it. The wind bit at her skin instantly, but she didn’t hesitate.
“Hey!” she called softly, her voice shaking only partly from the cold. The man’s head lifted, and those sharp blue eyes locked on hers.
“Come inside,” she said.
He hesitated, and she couldn’t blame him. She was a stranger inviting him into her home
didn’t matter right now.
–
a woman alone, seven months pregnant and vulnerable. But that
“Please,” she added, her voice breaking just a little. “It’s too cold out there.”
For a long moment, he didn’t move. And then slowly cautiously – he stood.
Her heart pounded in her chest as he approached the house, her mind flickering through every reason this was reckless, foolish, dangerous. But when he
stepped into the light, she saw the exhaustion on his face, the gauntness of his features, the way his hands shook from the cold- and all those dosahts
faded.
Because she knew what it felt like to have nowhere to go.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
