Norah Fisher let out a soft laugh, one that held more disbelief than humor. "A reason, you say?"

"Yes. Vivienne's pregnant." Lionel said it like the words should explain everything. But they only left Norah momentarily stunned. "She's pregnant? Your brother's been dead for three years. What'd she do—dig him up?"

Her eyes locked on Lionel, her disbelief plain.

"Norah, that's a horrible thing to suggest." Her voice came sharp. But Lionel pushed on, the strain thick in his words. "The child is my brother's. Before he passed away, he left behind stored embryos. Vivienne missed him so much she decided to have his child. That's how she got pregnant."

Lionel's strained explanation only deepened Norah's skepticism. It felt like a flimsy cover-up—one only someone desperate to hope might cling to.

"Alright, let's go back and talk about this." Lionel's patience was visibly thinning. Ever since Vivienne came back, he'd had none left for Norah.

He carried that arrogant confidence, the kind that made him believe no matter what he did, Norah would always forgive him because she loved him.

"Lionel, do you seriously think bringing me flowers and sweet-talking me is going to make me forget everything and run back to you?" Norah's voice was calm, but there was steel underneath.

Lionel frowned, clearly irritated. "Norah, I came here to apologize in person. How long are you going to keep this up? You get more stubborn by the day. Maybe I've spoiled you too much."

"Stubborn?" Norah scoffed. "What does being reasonable look like to you? Silently taking your mother's insults? Smiling politely while Vivienne crashes my engagement party?"

"Norah," Lionel growled, his voice rising.

"Are you coming back with me or not? If you don't leave with me today, we're done. For good." The threat in his tone was obvious—he was still convinced Norah would never actually walk away.

Norah faced his ultimatum with quiet resolve. "Lionel, I already made it clear at the engagement party: we're done."

A flicker of unease crossed Lionel's face, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by his certainty that Norah had always stuck by him. He dismissed her words as another tantrum.

"Norah, I'm offering you a chance to come back. This is your last one."

He was sure she would relent and follow him home.

"Norah."

The voice cut in before she could answer. Jamie Olson walked up and stopped beside her. "Your parents were worried. They asked me to come check on you."

"Thank you," Norah said with a nod.

Lionel's gaze shifted to Jamie, his eyes narrowing with hostility. Jamie's presence unsettled Lionel more than he wanted to admit.

"Norah, who is he?" Lionel demanded.

"Mr. Ross, we've already broken up. Who he is is none of your business." Norah's tone was cold, detached.

She was determined to move forward. She had no intention of looking back.

"Are you sure you want to break up with me?" Lionel's eyes blazed with fury as he reached out to grab Norah, but Jamie stepped in front of her, blocking his path.

"Mr. Ross, it's ungentlemanly to put your hands on a woman."

"This is between Norah and me. Step aside," Lionel snapped. Their eyes locked in a heated standoff, neither one giving an inch.

Norah cut in, her gaze fixed on Lionel. "I've been very clear. We're over. Please don't bother me again."

"Over?" Lionel sneered, gesturing toward Jamie. "Because of him?"

Norah wanted to laugh, but the absurdity of his accusation killed any trace of humor.

Her years with Lionel. Her real, honest feelings—reduced to something laughable under his suspicion.

Without trust, what love could survive?

"Fine, Norah. Don't come crying back to me." Lionel scoffed and hurled the bouquet to the ground before walking away.

Norah's tightly clenched fists finally relaxed.

"Are you okay?" Jamie asked, studying her face.

"I'm fine." Norah forced a small smile. "Sorry you had to see that."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. That was a classic case of moving on."

"Moving on?" Norah echoed, caught off guard. She met his eyes for a beat before looking away.

Jamie nodded encouragingly. "Letting go of something that wasn't right for you is a smart move."

He was right. Lionel didn't love her anymore.

And letting go of someone who no longer loved her was the best decision she could make.

"Thank you." Norah smiled, the weight on her chest finally easing.

At the Ross household, Lionel stormed through the door.

Seeing him alone, Vivienne felt a rush of satisfaction but made herself look concerned. "Lionel, where's Norah? She didn't come back with you? Is she still angry and refusing to come home?"

Lionel's silence said everything as he dropped onto the sofa and yanked his tie loose in frustration.

"Lionel, Norah's temper seems to be getting worse," Marshall Ross remarked from where he lounged, scrolling on his phone.

"You've let her call the shots for too long. Give someone an inch, and they think they run the whole show."

Lionel was starting to think Marshall had a point. Maybe he had spoiled Norah, given her too much slack. She'd never acted like this before—she'd always been agreeable.

But the thought of her with another man only burned hotter in his chest.

"Marshall, don't speak about Norah that way." Vivienne chided him gently, then turned to Lionel with a look of practiced concern. "Norah must still be upset with me. I'll apologize and ask her to come back."

She started to get up, but Lionel stopped her. "Vivienne, this isn't your fault."

"If Norah wants to throw a tantrum, let her."

Marshall chimed in, "Exactly. If she wants to act out, let her. She's not really going to leave you. It's just a game of playing hard to get."

Hearing that, Lionel's mood lifted. Norah loved him. How could she fall for someone else so quickly? That guy was probably just a prop she'd brought along to get under his skin.

Vivienne exchanged a glance with Marshall, who set down his phone and walked over to Lionel.

"Look, I know how to get Norah back to you within three days," Marshall said, his voice conspiratorial.

Lionel turned to him, interest sparking in his eyes.

"But you'll need to give me a little room to maneuver." Marshall added with a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Norah, we just got word from Ross Corporation—they're backing out of the Lakeside project and ending our partnership," Cassidy Griffin reported, worry heavy in her voice.

Norah Fisher froze for a beat, a wave of disbelief crashing over her. Lakeside was a huge investment for Fisher Corp—a commitment spanning more than five years. Lionel Ross had come on board during their lowest point, and that had cemented her faith in the partnership.

"If Ross Corporation pulls out now, the project will face indefinite delay," Cassidy continued grimly.

Norah understood the gravity of it. "I'll be out for a while."

She left the office and drove straight to Ross Corporation. If they really meant to cut ties, she at least deserved an explanation.

"Ms. Fisher." Jake, Lionel's assistant, straightened in obvious surprise.

Norah's gaze was sharp. "I need to see Mr. Ross."

"Mr. Ross is... tied up right now. Maybe you could wait?" Jake suggested, clearly uneasy.

"I won't take up much of his time."

Norah brushed past him, determined to confront Lionel. She suspected he was dodging her and using Jake as a shield. She was here now—she intended to face him directly.

Jake made a half-hearted grab to stop her, but she slipped past him. The office door swung open, and for a second, Norah froze at the scene inside.

Lionel and Vivienne Powell pulled apart fast. Vivienne wiped her mouth and quickly straightened her clothes, looking like a guilty cat caught in the act. Tissues littered the floor, hinting at what had just gone on.

"Norah, don't get the wrong idea. I just had a sudden bout of morning sickness, and Lionel was helping me," Vivienne offered quickly, though her excuse was see-through.

Norah glanced at the tissues on the floor. What kind of "help" needed that many tissues?

Lionel stayed composed. "Jake, help Ms. Powell to the lounge. Reassign her work for now."

"Yes, sir."

Vivienne's lips curved into a subtle, triumphant smile as she accepted the special treatment.

With that handled, Lionel focused on Norah. "What brings you here?"

Her surprise visit had caught him off guard. He hadn't expected Marshall's manipulations to work so well.

"Is it your call to pull out of the Lakeside project?" Norah asked bluntly.

Lionel's tone was detached. "I've assigned Marshall to manage the Lakeside project. Any concerns should go through him."

He'd once promised that the Fisher Corp collaboration would stay under his personal supervision—proof of their bond. Less than a year later, everything had changed.

Norah nodded before turning to leave. Asking anything else felt pointless.

"Norah." Lionel's voice followed her, edged with displeasure. "Aren't you here to say something else?"

A wry smile tugged at Norah's lips. "You expect me to beg?"

Was that the real point of canceling the partnership—to humiliate her after the breakup?

"I can overlook your dramatic exit at the engagement party, but you owe my mother an apology for ruining her outfit," Lionel demanded, self-righteous and sharp.

Lionel believed Norah had been pampered for too long. A lesson would rein in her spoiled streak—or she'd create chaos once they were married.

Norah's fist clenched at her side, then slowly relaxed. She faced Lionel head-on. "She insulted me. Doesn't she owe me an apology?"

Lionel's face darkened with frustration.

"Norah, she's his mother. She was just upset—how could you expect a mother to apologize to her son's fiancée like that?" Vivienne cut in, her tone sickly patronizing.

Norah fired back. "Why is this any of your concern? She's your mother, not mine."

"Norah Fisher, you—" Lionel's face flared red, the words stuck in his throat.

Before he could force the words out, Vivienne pulled him back. "Lionel, don't blame Norah. She must be upset with me. It's all my fault; I'm the one who disrupted your engagement party. Please, don't hold it against her."

Vivienne played the victim beautifully, her voice dripping with fake remorse.

"Maybe I should return to New York. As long as you and Norah are happy, a little hardship on my part is nothing," she went on, sounding noble and self-sacrificing.

Norah sneered. "Ms. Powell, how exactly have you been wronged? You're just his sister-in-law—not his lover."

A sharp slap cracked through the air, plunging the room into stunned silence. Norah's cheek burned, disbelief clouding her face. She hadn't thought Lionel would actually hit her. But the mark of his hand was clear.

Vivienne's surprise quickly became a brief, satisfied smile.

Lionel looked just as shocked, staring at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. He opened his mouth, but the words faltered.

Norah met his eyes, her gaze glassy with unshed tears. But she refused to let them fall. It wasn't worth it.

She shot Lionel one last steely look, then turned and walked away.

"Norah." Instinctively, Lionel reached out for her.

"Let go of me." Norah yanked free of his grasp and left.

Lionel watched her go, regret creeping in.

Vivienne stepped closer, her voice soft and probing. "Lionel, you shouldn't have hit her. It was only a few words—it didn't even matter."

The guilt that had flickered inside Lionel vanished, replaced with indifference. "It was her fault."

Vivienne probed further. "Maybe you should apologize to her?"

"No need. She needs to reflect on her behavior and cool off," Lionel dismissed, arrogant and sure he'd done nothing wrong.

He planned to let her calm down before going to her. It was her mistake, after all. A small lesson would teach her to remember and trust more in the future.

Leaving Ross Corporation, Norah got into her car. In the rearview mirror, the red mark on her face stared back at her, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She knew going home like this would only worry her parents, so she called them with a quick excuse—she'd be late, they shouldn't wait up.

She drove to her own apartment, the private place she'd secured for herself. Every time she and Lionel argued, she came here. Lionel knew this was her sanctuary.

She had barely settled in when a knock echoed at the door.

Norah Fisher had no intention of answering the relentless knocking at her door. Only her parents and Lionel Ross even knew about this apartment, and she'd already told her parents where she was, so they wouldn't be worried.

But the knocking just kept coming.

Norah stood, ready to give whoever was outside a piece of her mind. "Can you just stop—" The words died in her throat when she opened the door and found Jamie Olson standing there.

"Jamie? What are you doing here?"

"Your mom mentioned you weren't coming home tonight. She was worried something might've happened, so she gave me your address and asked me to come check on you," Jamie explained.

His eyes landed on the red, swollen skin of her face, and his expression turned serious, a fierce protectiveness settling over him.

Norah quickly looked away, not willing to let Jamie see her like this. She missed the hard, determined glint in his eyes. "It's nothing."

"Who did this?" Jamie asked, his voice dropping low. Before Norah could respond, he guessed, "Lionel?"

Norah stayed silent.

Jamie's gaze went cold. "You went to see him?"

"Fisher Corp has a partnership with Ross Corporation. They're pulling out, and it's a huge loss for us," Norah explained, not entirely sure why she felt the need to justify herself to him.

Jamie stepped inside, gently steering her toward the sofa. Then he went to grab an ice pack and pressed it against her cheek.

At this close distance, Norah could see Jamie's striking features more clearly. She caught the faint, clean scent of his cologne, warm and solid like his presence.

"I... I can do it myself," Norah said, taking the ice pack from him to put some space between them.

Jamie didn't push. He asked gently, "Have you eaten?"

"No," Norah admitted, shaking her head.

Without another word, Jamie headed to the kitchen.

Curious, Norah followed, watching Jamie roll up his sleeves and start preparing a meal. She couldn't help the spark of intrigue. "You can cook?"

"Yes," Jamie replied simply, his movements skillful and practiced.

Norah watched him chop with precision, realizing he probably cooked often. There was something undeniably attractive about a man who was at ease in the kitchen. She'd once hoped Lionel would cook for her, but he'd always dismissed the idea, spouting some backward nonsense about how the kitchen wasn't a man's place. In all their years together, Lionel had never cooked her a single meal.

Jamie glanced back, catching her watching him, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Okay," Norah nodded, her mood lifting a little, especially as the smell of the dishes began to fill the air.

"Here, taste this and tell me if it's any good," Jamie said, serving her a portion.

Norah didn't hesitate. She took a bite, and her eyes widened. "I didn't expect you to be this good in the kitchen."

"Then have some more," Jamie encouraged, piling another helping onto her plate.

Norah dug in, genuinely enjoying every bite. "Weren't you planning to expand your business in Boston? Aren't you busy?"

She was curious—Jamie seemed to have plenty of free time.

"Not busy. Most of it's already handled. What's left is small, and my team can manage it," Jamie replied.

Back so soon and already mostly settled? Norah figured it had to be a small company. Still, she offered, "Jamie, since you cooked for me, if you need anything here in Boston, you can reach out to me."

Fisher Corp wasn't huge, but it had been in Boston for years and had a solid network. Jamie's company, just starting out here, could definitely use that.

"Alright," Jamie agreed with a nod.

Taking in the spread on the table, Norah went to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. "Good food like this deserves wine. Let's have a drink to celebrate."

"Sure." Jamie was on board with whatever Norah wanted.

Norah poured two glasses, handed one to Jamie, and downed her own. "Ah, that hits the spot."

She looked relaxed, like everything was fine, but Jamie knew she was using the wine to numb the pain.

"Cheers," Norah said, refilling her glass and throwing it back in one go.

After three glasses, she was dizzy and struggling to stay upright.

Jamie watched her getting tipsy, torn between amusement and affection. He got up to steady her. "You shouldn't drink that much if you can't hold your liquor."

Norah waved him off. "I haven't had that much."

"Okay, you haven't," Jamie said, keeping his hands on her so she wouldn't topple over.

"Jamie, do you know why? Why did he hit me? My parents never laid a hand on me, so why did he? I want to hit him back. I want to find someone to teach him a lesson."

"Alright, let's find someone to do it," Jamie said calmly.

Norah nestled against Jamie, surprised by how safe he felt, and burrowed deeper. A faint blush crept up his face.

He helped Norah into the bedroom and eased her onto the bed. Still clinging to his neck, Norah accidentally pulled him down with her as she fell back. Thrown off balance, Jamie caught himself on the bed before he could crush her—but that left him hovering over her, and the position was undeniably intimate.

Looking down at Norah, now out cold, Jamie's face burned even hotter. He swallowed hard, quickly retreating and covering her with a blanket.

His gaze landed on the mark on her cheek, and he reached out on instinct, only to stop just short, afraid he'd hurt her more.

Once he was sure she was asleep, Jamie stepped back to the window. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, his eyes steely and stripped of all warmth as they stared out into the night.

**********

Late that night, Lionel was speeding down the highway in his sports car when four or five cars suddenly boxed him in, forcing him to a stop. More than a dozen men climbed out, metal rods in hand.

"What do you want? Do you know who I am?" Lionel started, but before he could finish, the crack of a rod slamming against his car cut him off.

A sharp pain exploded through his head.

Norah jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed.

She'd been dreaming—dreaming that she'd found a group to give Lionel a taste of his own medicine, and it hadn't been pretty.

The shrill ring of her phone cut through the silence. She picked it up and answered.

Hattie Ross's commanding voice came through the line. "Norah Fisher, Lionel's been beaten up badly. Get to the hospital immediately and take care of him."

Lionel had actually been beaten up? Was this really happening?

It felt like a dream come true.

When Norah didn't respond right away, Hattie's voice sharpened. "Norah Fisher, are you listening? Get to the hospital. Now!"