Chapter 13
The gallery smelled faintly fresh that morning.
Cheyenne was bent over, dusting the artwork, when footsteps suddenly sounded behind her. "I'm sorry, we're not open yet," she said without looking up.
But the other party didn't respond. Instead, the footsteps stopped, and the silence grew heavier.
A shiver ran through her body as a bad feeling settled in. She spun around and froze, staring straight into Nolan's bloodshot eyes.
He had lost too much weight, his suit jacket hanging loosely on his frame, and the dark circles under his eyes were frightening.
"Yenne." His voice was hoarse, but the familiar tone made her skin crawl. "I know I was wrong. Please, come home with me."
The duster slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a sharp clack.
Shock gave way to a rising wave of disgust. She stepped back, her spine pressing against the cold display case. "Mr. Pierce, we have nothing to do with each other anymore."
"We do!" He stepped forward, trying to grab her wrist, but she snap

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