The air in the restaurant’s private dining room, already chilled by the confrontation, seemed to freeze solid. Mansa was utterly speechless, his usual composure shattered not by the legal document, but by the baffling, almost reverent care with which Michael handled it.

Linsy stared, a frown etching itself between her brows. Why does he carry our marriage certificate like a sacred relic? Wrapped in layers, kept close? The man before her was an enigma wrapped in a paradox. This wasn’t the ...