“He turned you into a monster. Søren was right. I should be afraid of you.”

“You’re afraid of everything, Zach. Afraid to leave your wife. Afraid to go back to her. Afraid to start over. Afraid to have sex with me. Afraid to trust me or yourself or anyone for that matter. And afraid to tell me what happened to you…I was going to tell you my secret. I swear to God I was. I was just waiting until you were brave enough to tell me yours.”

“I keep my private life private, Nora. I don’t put it up for public auction like you do.”

Nora crossed her arms and stared at him.

“Now I’m starting to see why Grace left you. You’re a real charmer, Easton.”

Zach took a step toward her. “You don’t even deserve to say her name, Nora. And all I have left to say is goodbye.”

“Fine. I get it. We’re done. I said I’m sorry, and you refuse to accept my apology. What about the book?”

“The book?” Zach stepped over several thousand dollars on his way to the front door. “The book’s off. It’s over.”

“What do you mean it’s over? It’s not finished yet. I still have two weeks.”

Zach opened the front door and looked over his shoulder.

“It’s over,” he repeated. “Royal House can’t afford you,” he said, kicking a hundred dollar bill out from under his foot. “And neither can I.”

* * *

The pounding felt amazing. Every hit reverberated through her whole body. It started in her hands and ran though her arms, across her shoulders and down her back and into her feet. She poured herself into every punch, her muscles straining and opening and screaming. She’d almost forgotten how good pain could feel.

“Nora!”

She heard Wesley’s voice calling to her from far away and ignored it. She just wanted to keep hitting, keep hurting.

“Nora, stop it!” Wesley yelled, bounding down the basement stairs three at a time. He tried to grab her, but she slipped through his hands and hit her punching bag even harder.

She pulled back, ready for one more punch, but Wesley stood in front of her.

“Get out of my way, Wes,” she ordered, wiping sweat off her forehead. It rained off her, down her bare arms, soaking her hand wraps all the way through.

“Nora,” Wesley said, taking her by the wrists. She struggled a little but he wouldn’t let her go. “You’re out of your mind. You’re going to hurt your hands.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do. You don’t even have gloves on. You’re going to hurt yourself and you’re not going to be able to write for a week.”

Nora pulled away from him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said.

“Why?”

“It’s off. The whole thing’s off. Some jackass at Royal knew about me and told Zach before I could,” she said, panting the words. “He was, to say the least, unhappy.”

“He called off the contract?” Wesley asked, looking shaken to the core.