Page 59 of Claiming Pretty

Perhaps even the Sochai. We’dallbe caught.

I moved before my thoughts caught up, desperation guiding me.

“Oh, Ty,” I said. “I think we’ve found our perfect agency!”

Ty barely had time to react as I flung myself into his arms, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling his lips down to meet mine.

At first his mouth was stiff, unyielding against mine. He froze, likely shocked at my sudden initiative—and maybe even at the blatant betrayal of the promise I had made to his brother.

But then he melted into me, his arms tightening around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.

His tongue swept across my bottom lip, coaxing a gasp from me, and I let him in, the taste of him overwhelmingme, consuming me. The kiss deepened with a heat and intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.

A shiver of guilt rippled through me as somewhere in the back of my mind, alarms blared that Ciaran was watching, screaming that this was wrong.

That I wasn’t Ty’s. That I didn’t belong to him.

But the kiss didn’t feel wrong. It felt like fire. Like home. Like everything I’d tried so hard to suppress, clawing its way to the surface with an undeniable ferocity.

My heart swelled to the point of bursting, as though a dam deep within me had finally shattered, unleashing a flood of emotions I’d fought desperately to keep at bay. Like the buried memories I’d tried so hard to forget, they surged to the surface, refusing to be silenced.

There was no more denying it and there was no morewantingto deny it.

I still loved Ciaran. I always would.

But I had fallen for Ty, too.

THE SHADOW

Hiding in the empty office, I pressed my back against the cold wall and tried to steady my breathing. The faulty window latch had been a lucky find—one I planned to exploit—but for now, it was all about waiting for the right moment.

Waiting. And listening. Every sound outside in the reception area carried into this small room, clear as a goddamn bell.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Donahue. Please, come in,” the receptionist said, her voice polite and warm.

The sharp click of Ava’s heels echoed on the marble floor, a sound that sent a pang through me.

I could almost picture her walking in, poised and perfect, her hand lightly brushing Ty’s arm as they kept up their ruse.

And then Ty’s voice cut through, smooth and dripping with something I couldn’t quite place. “Every time someone calls you ‘Mrs. Donahue,’ I keep expecting to be awakenedfrom this dream. But you are my wife, aren’t you? You aremine.”

The words landed like a punch to my chest.

It wasn’t just the words themselves—Ty’s tone held a lightness, an unguarded warmth I hadn’t heard from him in years. It was as if, for once, there was a beating heart beneath all that cold, calculated steel.

I fucking hated it.

Ava’s laugh followed, soft and sweet like it was meant to taunt me.

The receptionist gushed, her cooing voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, you two are just the cutest! I’ll let the director know you’ve arrived. Coffee or tea for either of you?”

I held my breath, straining to hear their answers.

“My wife takes milk and two sugars in her coffee,” Ty said, his voice steady and sure.

I froze, my blood turning to ice.Is that true?

I didn’t know.

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