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She’d tried to run, and Giana had stopped her, and there was

something about that touch. Something about the look on her

face. She was so kind and earnest and there was real care

there, real emotion, and it had been Coralyn’s undoing. Her

brain just lapsed. All the fight went out of her. Plus, she still

needed to return that necklace. If marrying Giana was the only

way to do it, then it would have to be done. She could always

hope for an annulment or a divorce.

Why did I get myself into this? Why did I take the necklace?

Why did I lie? How did things become such a mess? What is

even going on?

The old Coralyn would never have been swayed. The old

Coralyn would never have lied and plotted. The Coralyn she

thought she’d known all her life would never have found

herself in this position, the necklace burning in her coat

pocket, hopes of somehow turning around the situation and

salvaging it melting away like snowflakes on the tip of her

tongue.

Maybe I can use this for good. If Giana never remembers,

maybe I can convince her to use all her money for a decent

purpose. Before I break her heart and leave her and move on

with my life.

And if she remembered? What kind of shitstorm would

Coralyn find herself in then? Giana was rich and powerful.

She was holding fire in her palm, knowing full well that the

burn was unavoidable.

“Are you okay?” Giana walked back into the living room, a

drink in her hand that looked like whisky. She took the

opposite side of the couch. Even now, she sat so properly. She

really was a beautiful woman, if you didn’t take into account