Chapter 4

Max was perfectly fine—shocker.

He spent one night in a private hospital wing, inhaled two slices of cheesecake, and was back to jumping on the furniture like the spoiled brat he was.

Three days crawled by before Richard finally bothered to show his face at home.

When he walked in, I was perched on the edge of the sofa, slowly running my thumb along the edge of a paring knife, my eyes fixed on the steel.

He flinched for a split second, then let out a sharp sneer. "What, you planning on stabbing me now?"

I set the knife down…