George

I sit in my home office, the dim light from my desk lamp casting a golden glow across the room, soft against the rich wood and leather.

It all went according to plan. Ella, with her stubborn personality, would never want the gifts or my offer of money, but I knew that. They were just tools, distractions to get her to accept what really mattered: the bodyguards. She's changed a lot since the divorce—grown harder, more independent—but I still know her better than most. ...