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Chapter 70
“The court finds the defendant, Keith Johnson, guilty of all charges. He is hereby sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.“}]
A murmur rippled through the courtroom. The gavel struck, sealing his fate. I didn’t react. Not when Keith stood, eyes wild, fists clenched. Not when he started shouting, fighting against the guards who moved to restrain him.”
“This isn’t over!” His voice was venomous. “You hear me, Katherine? I will make you pay!“}
Empty threats. I stared at him with blank eyes. He had already lost. Then, as if realizing it was useless, Keith changed tactics. His rage melted into desperation. He dropped to his knees, his voice cracking.
“Katherine,” he pleaded. “I was wrong. I- I loved you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please, forgive me. Give me another chance!“}
I stared at him. He didn’t stop, almost kneeling, until he finally kneeled. “Please, I’m sorry! I’m gonna make everything right… just please, come back to me. Don’t do this.”
Come to him? What an asshole? Is he crazy? Asking me to come to him after what he had done? I wouldn’t wonder if he ended up in a a mental facility, rather than in jail soon.
But I felt nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Not pity. Just nothing. I didn’t care anymore–and that was the best feeling ever.
Keith Johnson was just a man I once knew. A man I wasted too much time on. I turned and walked out of the courtroom. That chapter of my life was closed.
That night, I celebrated alone. Finally, everything was in place. For once, I also want to do something for myself. I had never done this going to a bar, drinking–ever since I was paralyzed. My life revolved around Keith–it was a mistake.
The bar was luxurious, filled with the city’s elite, but I didn’t care about that. They also didn’t care about me. Well, I tried not to blend in as much as possible. But who cares? I’m Katherine Covey.
I took a sip of my cocktail, the alcohol burning pleasantly down my throat. A man slid into the seat beside me, flashing me an easy smile.
“Drinking alone?“}
I smirked, swirling my glass. “Celebrating.”
He raised a brow. “Mind if I join?“}
I shrugged. Why not? It has been a long time since I talked to men. It had always been Keith. I was wrong when it comes to that. I shouldn’t have just let my world revolve around him.
And so we danced. I laughed. Then, another drink. Another man. I was reckless, tipsy, floating in the high of my newfound freedom. I spun around, ready to let the night swallow me whole–but then I saw him.
Jeron. His sharp blue eyes locked onto mine from across the dance floor.
Before I could react, he was there–his grip firm around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
His breath was warm against my ear. “Are you trying to make me jealous?“>
I blinked, still dazed. “What?“}
His fingers traced a slow path down my spine, possessive. “Have you forgotten? I’m your future husband.“)
I tilted my head back, looking up at him. The alcohol made my movements slow, my thoughts hazy.
“So what?” I laughed, the sound slurred. “It’s not like we love each other.”
Jeron’s grip tightened. His jaw clenched, but his smirk remained. “You’re drunk.“}
“No shit.” I pushed against his chest playfully. “Let me go dance with my new friends.“}
His eyes darkened. “Not happening.”}
I scoffed, but before I could protest, he pulled me away from the crowd. Somehow, we ended up in a private booth. A secluded space, away from the chaos.
Jeron handed me a glass of water, watching as I drank. “You should slow down.”
I set the glass down with a huff. “You’re not my father, Jeron.“}
He chuckled. “Thank God for that.“}
I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The room spun slightly, but I didn’t care. “I hate him,” I muttered.
Jeron didn’t need to ask who I meant.”
“I spent years loving a man who only saw me as a convenience,” I continued, my voice thick with emotion. “He cheated on me. Lied to me. Controlled me. And I was so stupid. I let him.“}
Jeron was silent.
“I should be happy,” I whispered. “I won. He’s in jail. He can’t hurt me anymore.“>
“Then why are you crying?” Jeron’s voice was soft.
I touched my cheek, surprised to feel the wetness there.
“Because I don’t know what to do now,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “For so long, my life revolved around Keith. Hating him. Loving him. Surviving him. Now that he’s gone… I don’t know who I am.”
Jeron exhaled. Then, before I could react, he pulled me into his arms.
asiffannd Malhat a …. NO
12:03 PM
I stiffened. “What are you-”
“Shut up,” he murmured. “Just for a minute.”
I didn’t move. His embrace was warm, steady–nothing like Keith’s suffocating grip.
I should have pushed him away. I didn’t. Instead, I closed my eyes. Let myself be held.”
The next few moments were a blur. The weight of his gaze. His fingertips tracing slow patterns on my back. The way my breath hitched when he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
Then–his lips were on mine. It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t careful.}
It was desperate. Like he had been holding back for too long. My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands roamed my body, setting fire to my skin.
I wasn’t thinking. Didn’t want to think.”
I just wanted to feel. I barely registered him carrying me out of the booth. The next thing I knew, we were in a room. Soft sheets. Warm hands. Lips tracing a path down my neck.
Then–darkness.
Morning light streamed through the curtains, warm against my skin. I groaned, my head throbbing. What happened last night? I shifted, only to feel something–someone–beside me
My eyes flew open.
Jeron. Lying next to me. Shirtless. Barely covered by the sheets.}
Panic shot through me.]
I sat up abruptly, my heart hammering. My movements woke him, and he blinked groggily before smirking.
“Well,” his voice was lazy, amused. “Good morning, Mrs. Kavinsky.“}
