Grant Harrington leaned back into the soft embrace of his supple leather desk chair, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. He traced the silver frame around the wedding photo he’d stared at so many times before while trapped in deep contemplation.
It had been both a symbol of solace and unease, a constant reminder of the complicated tapestry of love and challenges he and Julia had woven together.
With a deep sigh, he let his eyes linger on their captured smiles, a bittersweet symphony of happiness and the underlying tremors of uncertainty.
He had finally bared his soul to his wife, revealing truths he had long kept hidden in his heart. And now, after a heart-wrenching negotiation of fears and hopes, she had agreed to stay—to give them another chance.
Yet, as he gazed at the tender moment from their fake wedding, a silent question haunted him. Was his love enough to cement her place at his side or was he doomed to repeat the mistakes of his past?
He swallowed hard, a string of failed relationships marching through his mind. None of his previous wives were like Julia, and he himself was a different man from the one who had married four times before. His gaze lingered on an empty space on the mantel across the room, where a photo of his second wife had once stood–a testament to his younger, more impulsive days, when success in business didn’t translate to success in love. He remembered the cold silence that had filled their home, a stark contrast to the warmth and laughter Julia brought to his life. He wasn’t that man anymore, and he was determined to prove it, starting with Julia.
He knew what he needed to do. And he knew that he needed help to do it.
A knock at the door pulled him from his contemplation. He set the wedding photo next to his monitor and called out for them to come in.
The doors swung open, and Worthington appeared. He stood aside, motioning for his wards to enter first before he closed the door behind them.
Sierra shuffled inside, the feathers on her silk robe fluttering as she stomped her high-heeled slippers across the floor, an eye mask pushed up to her forehead. Behind her, Kyle, already dressed, stepped inside.
“Why am I being dragged from my bed at this ridiculous hour?” Sierra demanded as she crossed her arms.
“Family meeting,” Grant answered.
Kyle arched an eyebrow. “Really? Do you realize I was invited?”
“Very funny, Kyle. Sit down.” Grant shifted his gaze to Worthington. “You were discreet, right?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Discreet?” Sierra asked as she plopped into a chair across from Grant. “What is happening? And why are we having a family meeting without the entire family? Where is Julia?”
