The line went quiet for a long time. Just when Nora thought he wouldn’t answer at all, Kane finally spoke.
“Nora Bishop, you should know—anyone who dares to play me doesn’t stay alive for long.”
There was a pause, then he added, sharper this time,
“Don’t come testing me just because you think I’m still hung up on you. You really think I won’t change?”
For the first time in years, a faint smile touched Nora’s lips.
Kane Goode had been her childhood best friend. He’d fought his way up from nothing with sheer brilliance and ruthless determination, becoming a powerhouse in both domestic and international business. The man was a legend now—a mogul with steel in his veins.
Growing up, he had doted on Nora endlessly, confessed his love more times than she could count.
But then Damien showed up, like some storm out of nowhere. And once Nora laid eyes on him, she couldn’t see anything else—not even Kane.
She’d chosen Damien. And that choice had shattered Kane.
He left the country. Built a life overseas. But before he left, he told her, “If you ever change your mind, I’ll still be here.”
Now, Nora asked softly, “So… did you change?”
Kane’s voice dropped, gravelly and hoarse, “If I had, I wouldn’t have picked up this call.”
There was a pause, heavy with years of silence, before his voice hardened, sharp with pain. “It’s been eight years, Nora. Eight damn years you left me hanging. You don’t get to regret it now. Ten days. If I don’t see you at our old spot by then, I’ll make sure Damien and the entire Bishop Family burn with their empire.”
Nora hadn’t expected it—after all these years, the one who hadn’t changed… was Kane.
Tough words, always. But underneath that, no one had ever protected her like he did.
She tossed the single tulip into the trash and gathered herself before heading to the office.
A crowd had gathered outside her office door. Her assistant stood in front of her awkwardly, trying to block her from entering.
Nora peered past them and saw Hadley curled up in Damien’s arms inside her office, acting like she owned the place.
“This couch is ugly and stiff. I want a new one—real leather, soft and comfortable. And what’s with the lighting in here? These pendant lamps are depressing. Everything needs to go.”
Damien’s voice was warm, indulgent. “Whatever you want, Hadley. We can tear the place down and start from scratch if it makes you happy.”
Hadley wandered over to a landscape painting on the wall and reached out to touch it. “Who painted this? God, it’s hideous.”
Crash!
The painting hit the floor with a loud shatter. The frame broke, glass scattering everywhere.
Hadley screamed and Damien quickly pulled her into his arms, shielding her with a worried look on his face. “Leave it, Hadley!” he shouted as she moved to pick up the shattered pieces. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” he asked, checking her over.
“Gosh! Isn’t that Nora’s painting? What if she gets mad?” she asked, eyes glistening with tears.
Damien’s voice turned cold, laced with indifference. “She was always into that useless artsy crap. Nothing we can do now that it’s ruined. What matters is that you’re okay.”
Nora clenched her jaw so hard it ached just to keep herself from crying out.
She was all business—always had been. She’d poured everything she had into helping Damien build his own empire. She gave him her time, her knowledge, her faith.
Back then, he’d treated her like she was his whole world. He knew she hated soft beds, so he had a foldable firm sofa custom-made just for her. He built her a solid redwood desk.
That painting on the wall? She painted it herself on their first wedding anniversary.
At the time, Damien had said the artwork was too bold for him—but that it suited her and insisted it be hung in her office.
Now… he called it crap.
The realization hit her like a punch. Eight years. Eight years she gave him—and all of it was a waste.
Nora curled her fingers into fists, turned to leave quietly before she lost control.
But Hadley spotted her.
“Is that you, Nora?”
