When he saw my disheveled state, he barely frowned. Something about that made my heart lurch in my chest.
Before I could steady myself, he crouched down in front of me, pulled an agreement from his coat, grabbed my hand, and tried to press it into my palm.
“Jericho! What are you doing?!” I panicked, yanking my hand away with all my strength.
In his other hand was a release—a letter of understanding.
Half-squatting in a suit and polished shoes, he looked like a businessman closing a deal, not a husband faced with his wife’s crisis.
“Sign it, Venice. Come on, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
His voice sounded steady; the lines on his brow softened as if nothing catastrophic had happened.
“Verona didn’t do it on purpose. Your mom ending up in a coma? That was her fate. It’s nobody’s fault.”
Cold swept through me; my blood felt like it was running backward.
“Jericho, do you remember you’re my husband?” I asked.
He reached out, pinched my chin between two fingers, his face unreadable.
“I know,” he said in a low voice, “But Verona saved my life once. I have to protect her. Besides, she didn’t mean for this to happen. Don’t be childish, Venice. Just sign this letter. It’s better for both of us.”
He set the paper down in front of me again.
Seeing that same expression he’d worn since the day we married, I snapped. I grabbed and tore the damn paper to pieces and screamed, collapsing into grief.
“Jericho! All these years, every time I needed you, you were never there! Now, you’re threatening me for Verona’s sake? My mom nearly fucking died because of that doctor!”
But my shouting didn’t stir him. His face didn’t even flinch; he was nothing but a ghost—cold and indifferent to my pain.
I swallowed the sob that wanted to break out and forced each word out like a vow.
“Listen—I’m not letting her get away with this. I’ll bring every piece of evidence I have and drag her into court. I’ll make Verona rot in prison for the rest of her life.”
Finally, I would leave this asshole forever!
2
Venice’s POV
When it came to Verona, Jericho’s expression finally shifted.
He gripped my wrist with brutal force, his gaze cold enough to freeze.