<b>Chapter </b><b>256 </b><b>Broken </b><b>Illusions </b>
Chapter <b>256 </b>Broken Illusions
Jacinda’s words left Trent <b>exposed </b>and floundering.
At the start, he hid the marriage only because he did not want Sidonic to learn of it. He had confessed, been turned down, and then, almost at once, wed another woman; admitting that would have <b>made </b><b>him </b>look frivolous.
As thepany expanded and sess numbed his conscience, the secrecy became second nature<b>. </b>He fooled himself into thinking that as long as he kept the ring off his finger, he was still a single man.
“Let’s be honest, Trent,” Jacinda pressed on. “Mom cares about appearances, but so do you. You thought Quinn wasn’t presentable enough, so you kept her in the shadows. Now you’re pouring the bitterness of that divorce onto us.”
Her usationnded like an invisible p, leaving Trent’s cheeks burning and his tongue tied.
“Yes,” he whispered after a long silence, “it’s me–only me. I–failed Quinn. I wronged her.”
“What are you talking about?” Jacinda asked, baffled.
Penelope chimed in, “Son, don’t tell me Quinn hase begging you to take her back. You must not remarry that jinx. I will never let her step into this family again.”
“Enough, Mom!” Trent red at her. “Don’t ever let me hear you speak ill of Quinn again. That <b>so</b><b>–</b>called jinx saved my life. Without her, I would have drowned in the river years ago.”
With that, he ignored them both and strode up to the second–floor bedroom.
The room greeted him with an icy hush.
He went into the bathroom, sshed his face with cold water, and stared at the haggard stranger in the mirror.
The once confident man had been stripped away, leaving only exhaustion and despair.
Grafton Technologies was in shambles, and to make matters worse, Sidonie was carrying his child.
<i>Why </i><i>did </i><i>she </i><i>have </i><i>to </i><i>be </i><i>pregnant </i><i>now </i><i>of </i><i>all </i><i>times</i><i>? </i>
<i>No </i><i>matter </i>what<i>, </i><i>I </i><i>cannot </i><i>let </i>this <i>child </i><i>be </i><i>born</i>.
Julius escorted a tipsy Quinn back to her t. She had drunk far more than usual; when she climbed out of the car most of her weight sagged against his steady shoulder.
He felt a tug of something unfamiliar in his chest. Quinn had always been fiercely self–reliant, yet now, drunk and slumped against him, she seemed <i>to </i>believe he was the only harbor she had, the sole pir in her world.
“Let me carry you upstairs,” he murmured.
“No need… I can walk on my own,” she mumbled, the words thick on her tongue, and somehow <b>that </b>only made her seem more endearing to him.
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<b>Chapter </b>256 <b>Broken </b>Illusions
Julius <b>didn’t </b>argue. He simply <b>swept </b>her into his arms and started for the stairs. <b>“</b>Indulge me<b>,</b><b>” </b>he said. “I want to carry you.”
Quinnughed softly, looped her arms around his neck, and nestled against his shoulder.
Once inside the apartment, heid her gently on the bed. “I’ll find something to help you <b>sober </b><b>up</b>, he said.
“Don’t,” Quinn whispered as she caught his wrist and, with surprising strength, tugged him onto the mattress until he was pinned beneath her.
“Quinn?” Julius arched a brow. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Of course I do. I’m drunk, not delirious,” she murmured, letting her lips graze his in a slow, teasing <b>sweep</b>.
She slipped the tie from his cor, her fingers nimble despite the haze, and unfastened his buttons <i>one </i>by one until his cool chesty bare before her.
Her fingertips ventured inside, savoring the contrast between his chilled skin and the warmth burning through her. Julius‘ Adam’s apple bobbed, desire surging like wildfire through his veins.
“Quinn, I want—” he tried to rise, but she ttened him with a firm hand.
“Don’t move. Tonight I’ll be in charge,” she said, eyes bright with mischief. “When you take the lead things tend to… get a little out of hand. I’d rather spare my body another near–catastrophe.”
Julius chuckled, helpless but amused. “All right, you’re in charge. How do you want me?”
“Just lie there and behave,” she said, her gaze flicking <i>to </i>the discarded tie. She looped it around his wrists, crossed them, and knotted the silk into a neat bow.
He let her bind him without protest. “You honestly believe a single tie can hold me?” he asked.
“If you truly want to break loose, it won’t be that easy,” Quinnughed, her cheeks flushed rosy from the wine. “And besides,” she added, lowering her voice to a yful whisper, “Laura says tying a man to the bed can be… exhrating. I thought I’d test the theory.”
Hunger red in Julius‘ eyes, bright and uncontained. He wondered whether she would recall these words once the alcohol had burned off–and what sort of nonsense Laura usually whispered in her ear.
“Then promise me this,” he said, gaze never leaving her. “The only man you will ever tie to a bed is me.”