Chapter 4

The second document lay between us like a loaded gun.

Noah stared down at my mother's elegant handwriting on the transaction receipt, his face completely drained of color.

You promised me.

"What did you promise my mother, Noah?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the hum of the tavern like a razor blade. "Tell me right now."

Noah closed his eyes for a long, agonizing second, his chest heaving under his dark wool jacket. When he opened them, shame crossed his face, naked and immediate.

"She wanted a signed guarantee, Irene," Noah choked out, his knuckles…