M blinked, momentarily lost. "Huh?"


    Howard looked a touch embarrassed, though his elegantposure never faltered. "I''ve kept track of the matter you asked about," he said gently, "just as you wished."


    Being ready at all times for his employer''s needs—this was one of the hallmarks of an excellent butler.


    And Howard was nothing if not professional.


    "Oh... thank you," M replied, still a little dazed.


    She took the divorce papers from Howard, then, without missing a beat, passed them over the security detail and handed them to Lysander.


    "Please sign."


    Lysander went quiet for a moment.


    He took the papers, nced at them carelessly, but didn''t sign. Instead, he insisted the others leave.


    "Clear the hallway. If we''re going to talk, it''ll be just us. Otherwise..."


    His gaze slid to the little boy clinging to M''s hand. He instantly recognized him as Nathaniel''s nephew. Lysander''s eyes darkened, and then drifted back to M, his smile sharp, almost mocking. "You know me, darling. I''ve never cared how messy things get as long as I get what I want."


    M''s grip on the boy''s hand tightened.


    Of course she knew.


    Her husband had always been results-oriented. He didn''t care how ugly things got, as long as he got his way.


    But she cared.


    Her eyes lingered on the divorce papers in Lysander''s hand. After a moment''s hesitation, she bit her lip and turned to Howard. "Take the boy and wait outside. The bodyguards stay. If I''m not out in ten minutes, call the police."


    She was ying herst card.


    Maybe he''d sign. Maybe, after the scene he''d just made with Giselle-tossing around millions like pocket change-maybe he was eager to divorce her and marry Giselle as soon as possible.


    It was possible, wasn''t it?


    Once Howard led the boy out to the hall and the bodyguards retreated to stand watch along the corridor, a stretch of space opened between M and Lysander. She''d insisted on it, not trusting him enough to be left alone.


    Only when the bodyguards had turned away did M fix Lysander with a cold, steady re. "Ten minutes. Say what you need to, and make it quick. I don''t want anything, just your signature."


    Lysander smiled faintly. "Why the rush?"


    He stepped forward, closing the distance between them until only a couple feet remained. Suddenly, he asked, "Was it you? Did you do something to Charlotte?"


    M''s heart skipped, but her gaze didn''t waver.


    "So what-every time something stirs in the Harvey family, you''re going to pin it on me?"


    "Lysander, I don''t care what''s going on between you and Giselle. I''m not petty enough to stoop to revenge over something so pathetic-I have my pride." "Are you going to sign, or not?"


    He stared at her, admiring the fierce determination in her eyes. Suddenly, Lysanderughed.


    He stepped in, closing the distance until M instinctively tried to move away, only for him to catch her wrist and yank her back. Her back hit the wall with a dull thud. Her pearl hair clip slid to the floor, and her long ck hair tumbled free over her shoulders.


    She opened her mouth to curse at him, but then felt a chill at her wrist. She looked down, and froze.


    A jade bracelet now circled her wrist.


    It looked familiar.


    It was the same imperial green jade bangle from the charity auction-the one she''d once coveted, the one Lysander had bought for Giselle for six million.


    So why was it on her wrist now?


    Was he trying to humiliate her again?


    Rage bubbled up inside M. She didn''t bother to take off the bracelet her hand shot up, ready to p him, but Lysander caught her wrist mid-air.


    He held her fast, his sharp eyes lingering on how the bracelet made her skin look even paler, more delicate. He couldn''t help himself—he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her wrist.


    "I knew it would suit you."