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