CHLOE’s POV

The vase hit the floor before I even realized I’d knocked it over.

Glass shattered across the marble, sharp echoes slicing through the quiet room.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, dropping to my knees to gather the pieces. My hands trembled so badly I nearly cut myself.

Jake had barely spoken to me all morning, just cold, clipped words, polite smiles that didn’t touch his eyes. The man who’d held me last night, who’d whispered my name like a prayer, ...