Meanwhile, as Edward settled into the backseat of his car, the suffocating emotional barrier he had spent years constructing finally crumbled.
No one in the capital had ever seen this side of Edward Gray. Did he even have a vulnerable side? He had always been the icy, untouchable emperor of high society, but seeing her standing in that office today had pushed him to the absolute brink of sanity. Tears, warm and silent, streamed down his face—an unprecedented display of emotion for a man who rarely showed a flicker of feeling. He hated himself for being so blind, for failing to piece together the truth eight long years ago.
"Fate!" he sneered softly, a self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. "You really played me for a fool! From a twenty-year-old youth to a thirty-eight-year-old man... you let the exact same woman dance around me under dozens of different identities. What kind of sick joke is this?"
