When rivals sabotaged him in a business deal—I'd begged my father to call in favors and bail him out.
Every time he frowned, I'd turned the mirror on myself, wondering where I'd fallen short.
Until the kidnapping.
The kidnappers' leering grins. His impatient sighs over the phone. And finally—the flat, dead tone of a disconnected line.
While my body grew cold on that warehouse floor, he was tangled in Janet Fox's sheets.
"I didn't know any better back then." I pulled my hand free, my voice calm. "Now I do. If I stop fighting for you, you won't have to feel torn anymore. Everyone wins."
Something flickered in Rhys's eyes—panic, maybe. He reached for me again.
"Ursula, let's talk about this—"
A butler came rushing toward us, breathless.
"Young Master! There's been an incident. Miss Fox and Miss Henson both fell into the lake. They're shouting at each other!"
Rhys's face went cold. "Unbelievable. Have they no sense?"
For a split second, I thought he meant Janet—that her showing up here at all was the problem.
Then he spat out the rest.
"This is obviously Joan bullying her! Janet's timid and innocent. She'd never survive that woman's viciousness." His lip curled. "Absolute shrew."