Chapter 74
Chapter 74:
“Where were you p>
The voice came from the living room. Liam was sitting on the Chesterfield sofa. His elbows were on his knees, his head in his hands. He looked up as she entered. His eyes were rimmed with red, his tie loosened like a noose around his neck.
Skye didn’t stop walking. She headed for the study where the safe was.
“None of your business p>
Liam moved fast. He was across the room in three strides. He grabbed her wrist as she reached the hallway. His grip was hard, desperate.
“It is my business!” he hissed, spinning her around. “You are my wife. You don’t get to spend the night with another man and then block my number p>
Skye looked down at his hand on her wrist. She felt the heat of his skin, the pressure of his fingers digging into her pulse point. In the past, this would have made her cry. Now, it just made her tired.
“Let go,” she said. Her voice was ice.
“Stop playing games, Skye,” Liam said, shaking her arm lightly. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me jealous. You’re trying to punish me for Seraphina. Fine. You’ve made your point. Now stop it. Go upstairs, unpack your bag. The guest room is ridiculous; you belong in the master suite p>
Skye looked up into his eyes. She saw the confusion there. The arrogance. He genuinely believed this was a tactic. He couldn’t conceive of a world where she simply didn’t want him.
She yanked her arm back. The friction burned her skin, but she broke his hold. She rubbed her wrist, staring at him with a look so vacant it terrified him.
“I’m not unpacking, Liam,” she said clearly. “I’m here for the deed to my mother’s cottage. Then I’m leaving. For good. Divorce papers will be sent to your office tomorrow p>
Liam laughed. It was a sharp, barking sound. “You can’t divorce me. You’d be nothing without the Kensington name. You’d be destitute p>
“I’d rather be destitute than be you,” Skye said.
𝖡𝗿𝘰𝗐𝗌е 𝘣y 𝖼a𝘁𝖾g𝗈𝗿𝘺 𝘰n 𝖻𝗲.𝘤о𝘮
She turned toward the door, having decided the deed wasn’t worth the air in this room.
“If you walk out that door,” Liam shouted after her, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall, “don’t expect me to come chasing you p>
Skye didn’t pause. She reached for the brass handle.
But before she could turn it, the heavy oak doors swung open from the outside.
A cane emerged first. Ebony, topped with silver.
Then, Matriarch Beatrice Kensington.
Skye froze. The old woman never visited unless someone had died or someone was about to be destroyed. Behind her, the gray sky seemed to darken.
Skye stepped back, trapped between her past and her husband.
Beatrice Kensington stood in the doorway, her presence filling the foyer like a sudden drop in barometric pressure. She scanned Skye from head to toe, noting the simple, elegant clothes that weren’t from the Kensington closet. Then her gaze snapped to Liam.
“Grandmother,” Liam stammered, the color draining from his face. “I… I wasn’t expecting you p>
“Clearly,” Beatrice said, her voice dry as parchment.