[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-586":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},586,28,"Chapter 28: Tracing His Fault Line","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Despite the chaos at the office, Roman Griffin arrived home before Violette Ellis.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Thirty minutes earlier, the driver had delivered a prompt that broke the monotony of the drive.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Mr. Griffin, look. That’s your wife’s car.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A white Mercedes was idling on the curb. Through the driver's side window, a silhouette was visible—Violette. She appeared to be in a conversation with someone, the car perfectly still. This area was miles away from the hospital she was supposed to be visiting.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Why was she here?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A few seconds later, a young man stepped out of the passenger seat. He was dressed casually—a North Face technical shell, a bucket hat pulled low over his eyes, and a face mask. A classic, desperate attempt to remain unseen.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Unseen.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The word flickered across Roman’s mind like a spark in the dark. He stared at the scene, his gaze as still as a dead sea.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Should I pull over, sir?\" the driver asked.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"No,\" Roman replied. He tried to pull his gaze away, but his eyes refused to obey, locking onto that single point of friction. \"Drive faster. Stay out of her line of sight.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The request wasn't unusual; men trying to orchestrate a surprise often acted with this kind of calculated avoidance. The driver, a man in his forties who fancied himself an expert on the games couples played, simply nodded and steered onto a less-traveled side street.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">As a result, Roman’s car pulled into their garage ten minutes before Violette arrived.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When Violette heard the door open, Roman was already changed into loungewear. He was sitting in the cigar chair near the entryway, a tablet in his hand, quietly clearing his inbox.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You're home early,\" Violette said, dropping her bag and looking over with genuine surprise. When they had spoken on the phone earlier, he had still been on the road.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman dimmed his screen and set the tablet on the armrest. \"Did you finish visiting your colleague?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yes. She’s doing fine.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette smiled, but then realized Roman was still watching her. She touched her cheek. \"What? Why are you staring?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman rose to his feet and pressed his thumb against the skin beneath her eye. \"You’ve got dark circles.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Really?\" Violette cupped her face. \"Is it that obvious?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She hadn't slept well in days. She hurried toward the full-length mirror, squinting to inspect her reflection. The glass caught everything—including the space behind her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">In her peripheral vision, she saw Roman approach from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his large frame instantly consuming her space, bringing with him the sharp, clean scent of cold cedar. He lowered his head, his lashes casting long, dark shadows over his eyes.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"If this situation isn't resolved properly, there will be more trouble later,\" he said slowly. \"The source is him. I’m thinking, perhaps I should accompany you to meet him.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*Him?* Violette felt her heart skip a beat. \"Blake Pierce?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman’s tone remained infuriatingly ambiguous. \"Some things just need to be settled.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">*Actually, we’ve already said all there is to say.*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The words felt like a stone lodged in her throat. She suddenly lost the courage to meet his eyes in the mirror. She didn't know how to admit they had already met. She bit her lip, caught between nodding and shaking her head.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Maybe another time,\" she murmured.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Fine,\" Roman didn't push. He leaned down and kissed the sensitive skin of her ear.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">That night, Roman headed to the bedroom early. He had been going to bed at odd hours for the past few days, and lying together usually led to the expected intimacies. But tonight, Violette was exhausted, and her conscience wouldn't allow it. Having just seen Blake, she couldn't give herself to Roman entirely. To be with him now felt like a betrayal of the respect he deserved.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She curled up under the duvet, frantically searching for an excuse.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The mattress dipped behind her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman didn't move to initiate anything. Once the lights were out, he simply pulled her into a firm embrace, sighing against her hair. \"Get some sleep.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette reached back, her fingers finding the side of his neck.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Beneath her skin, she could feel the steady, rhythmic thrum of his pulse—a raw, surging current of blood. He didn't pull away; instead, he pressed her hand firmly against the vein, guiding her to trace the cadence of his life.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The position was bizarre. It felt as if he had laid himself bare, exposing his own vitals to her, inviting her to hold his leash.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette pressed down, her fingertips tracing the throb. She felt his breathing hitch, turning sharp and ragged.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">For some reason, as she held his life in her palm, she finally felt safe.\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272917844]