Chapter 68

Cleo stared at the clock hanging on the far wall, biting down on her nails, barely noticing the chipped polish.

Her dark, smoky eyes looked sharper than usual, tense, not teasing. There was none of the playful charm she normally carried. Just tight shoulders, nervous hands, and a restless tapping of her heel against the marble floor.

It was well past midnight. Nearly three hours had passed since Azalea was taken to Asher’s mansion.

Three hours.

Cleo hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t been able to sleep. All she could think about was going there, showing up at Asher’s door, demanding to know what the hell he was doing.

She’d loved him for years. Quietly at first. Then desperately. Enough to wait. Enough to hope.

But everything had started to change the moment Azalea came back into the picture.

At first, Asher didn’t seem to care. When they were overseas, it was like Azalea didn’t exist. Cleo had been the one beside him, supporting, planning, waiting for he