If you are looking for While I Was Bleeding Out He Lit Lanterns For Her Chapter 1 read online…
Chapter 574
Chapter 574:
The corners of her mouth moved — not quite a smile, but the edge of one. Cold, precise, entirely without warmth.
“That would be perfect,” she said.
There was no performance in it. No forced bravado, no carefully suppressed grief underneath. It was simply the flat, chilling indifference of someone watching a stranger stumble toward a cliff.
“Watching him destroy the empire he valued above everything and everyone — that would be a highly entertaining show.” She glanced out the window at the skyline. “His life, his collapse, his bankruptcy — none of it has anything to do with me anymore. Even sustaining hatred for him is a waste of energy p>
Sloane looked at her — at the clear, unwavering steadiness in those eyes — and felt the heavy knot that had been sitting in her stomach since that morning finally, completely release.
𝗣𝖣F𝘴 оո
She was profoundly glad she hadn’t said a word about the fight. June’s state of mind was exactly where it needed to be. Any mention of Cole’s obsessive, destructive jealousy would only poison the clean air June was finally breathing.
“You are absolutely right,” Sloane said, and picked up her teacup. “Cheers. To the self-destruction of trash men p>
June smiled — genuinely, freely — and clinked her porcelain cup against Sloane’s. The clear, bright sound rang out in the quiet restaurant like a small victory bell.
As the afternoon drew to a close, June pulled back her sleeve and glanced at her Patek Philippe.
“I have a four o’clock with Easton at his firm,” she said. The easy warmth in her expression was replaced instantly by something sharper and more focused. “We should have an update on the criminal case against Alycia’s parents. The fraud charges p>
Sloane grabbed her purse without hesitation. “I’m coming. I want to watch those people rot p>
They settled the bill and took the elevator down to the lobby, where Sloane’s Porsche was waiting at the curb. They drove toward Midtown.
At a red light in Times Square, June turned to look out the passenger window. The massive electronic billboards were running red-framed graphics about the market crash, and Cole’s face — dark, brooding, larger than life — dominated one of the screens.
June looked at it for two seconds.
Then she turned away and looked at her phone, her pulse entirely unchanged.
The Porsche descended into the underground VIP parking garage of the law firm. They took the private elevator directly to the top floor. The receptionist greeted them with polished efficiency and walked them down the glass-walled corridor to Easton’s corner office.
June pushed the heavy glass door open.
Something in the atmosphere stopped her immediately.
Easton was standing behind his desk. His face — ordinarily so composed, so masterfully controlled — was pale. His jaw was locked tight, the muscle along it visibly working. He looked up at June as she entered, and his eyes were carrying a storm that had nothing calm or professional in it at all.
June stepped into the office. The air inside felt dense and pressurized, as though the room itself were holding its breath.