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#Chapter 17: Misdirection and Misunderstanding

(Violets pov) I didn’t look back when I left the room. Let him assume what he wanted. Let him believe I’d done it for Ronan—because it was easier that way, wasn’t it? Easier than explaining that I was doing it to protect myself. To preserve the last fragile thread of pride I had left. Lucian thought I still loved Ronan. He hadn’t said it outright, but I saw it in the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, in the way his lips pressed into a line that begged for restraint. His jaw had gone tight. His hands clenched at his sides like he’d rather crush something than speak. But I didn’t explain. I didn’t owe him an explanation. Let him think I was a woman pining after her husband—because that version of me didn’t scare him. The truth might. And so I left. Slipped through the corridor with my head high, dress still damp, every footstep echoing like a verdict. I would be his shield. I would play the role. I would sign the deal

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