bChapter /b1.

    “Ma’am, seen the whole collection now? Nothing catches your eye?”

    “Ma’am?”

    Rosalind Johansen blinked, pulled from her thoughts.

    Her fingernded at random on a diamond ne.“This one. Wrap it up.”

    Relief washed over the clerk’s face.“Right away.”

    A wave of satisfaction rippled through the boutique staff.

    Rosalind’s daily visits for three months were legendary.

    “Ms. Johansen,” one associate ventured, envy clear in her voice, b“/byour husband must cherish you! Treating jewels like everyday trinkets… Incredible.”

    “They’re right,” another added. “Follow the money, find the love. A man spending like that? He’s utterly devoted.”

    “Rich and a hopeless romantic. Life truly bfavors /byou, Ms. Johansen…”

    Rosalind offered a thin, distant smile at the ttery.

    Her attention stayed fixed on the bassociate /bbacross /bthe room, the one quietly packaging her purchase, not jostling

    for favor.

    Her hands were particrly striking, delicate, pale, and graceful.

    Rosalind felt a flicker of self–disgust, like some kind of stalker.

    She needed to see up close the woman who’d shattered her husband’s famed self–control.

    iWhat /imagic did this ordinary shop girl possess to make her husband discard their fifteen years together, trample every sacred vow, and choose her?

    The associate’s name was Latoya Middleton. Her face wasn’t ssically beautiful, just pleasant.

    But those hands bwere /bexquisite, delicate, and perfectly formed. Even a woman could appreciate them. It was no wonder a man would be captivated.

    As Rosalind was leaving, she asked, “Could you do me a favor?b” /b

    As a top–tier VIP client, the answer was always byes/b.

    She slid the ring off bher /bring finger and handed it to the associate. “Melt this down for me, please.”

    The associate looked shocked. “But… this is your wedding ring? And … it looks like there’s an inscription?”

    There was indeed an inscription: CF and RJ, the initials of Christopher Foret and Rosalind Johansen.

    Christopher had engraved it himself.

    The associate double–checked, “Ms. Johansen, this ring must hold such significance. Are you sure byou /bwant it

    melted?b” /b

    19:51

    b0.0/bb% /b

    Chapter b1 /b

    “Yes” Rosalind stated firmly.“Tease do it as soon as possible.”

    Rosalind arrived home as evening fell.

    She had barely stepped through the front door when Christopher barreled out, nearly knocking her over.

    She stumbled back several steps, almost losing her bnce.

    Luckily, a strong hand shot out and caught her around the waist, preventing the fall.

    Christopher frowned, a light sheen of sweat on his brow.“Where were you? Why are you only getting home now?”

    “Yes, Mrs. Foret,” chimed in Liza Lester, their housekeeper. “It’s past seven. You should let Mr. Foret know if you’ll be outte. He was ready to call the police…”

    Standing slightly behind Christopher was his assistant, Joshua Pruitt.

    Seeing her, Joshua visibly rxed and spoke into his phone. “Sir, my apologies. Mrs. Foret is home now. Thank you for your time.”

    Christopher leaned down slightly, quickly scanning her bfor /bany sign of harm.

    Seeing she was unhurt, the tension in his bface /beased a fraction.“Your phone was off. I thought something had happened to you.”

    He instinctively reached out to touch her cheek, then frowned again.“You’re freezing.”

    Rosalind pushed his hand away and moved past him into the house.“Just needed some air. Felt stifled in here. My phone died.”

    Christopher caught up in two strides, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it around her shoulders ias /ihe guided her inside.“The wind picks up at night. Don’t catch a chill.”

    Rosalind tried to pull away, but his arm held firm. She stopped resisting.

    Once inside, Christopher started issuing orders. “Liza, make Rosa hot coffee to warm her up.”

    Then he turned to Joshua.“Go to Blossom Eatery. Get her usual favorites. Tell them easy on the salt and sugar.”

    “Right away, Mr. Foret.”

    Soon, they were alone in the living room.

    Christopher kept his arm firmly around her shoulders, a gesture both possessive and protective. His voice, howeverb, /bwas gentle. “I was a bit frantic earlier. I’m sorry if I sounded harsh, Rosa. Please don’t be angry.”

    Chanter 3