He burst into laughter, deep and unrestrained.
The sound wasn't warm or inviting. No, it was as cold and sharp as shattered glass, slicing through the stillness of the room.
I flinched, my head snapping toward him. His eyes gleamed with amusement, a dark, mocking light that made my stomach churn.
"Why is my beautiful bride staring at me like that?" he drawled, his tone dripping with derision. The remnants of his laughter danced on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, the picture of unbothered arrogance. He might as well have been lounging on a throne, utterly unbothered by the tension he'd so casually ignited. "Do you think I longed for something as insipid as a... mother bond?"
The words hit like a slap. Whatever fleeting sympathy I'd felt for him—some ridiculous, misplaced flicker of understanding—evaporated in an instant, leaving a bitter taste behind. How could I have been so stupid?
