Chapter 22

• Joaquin’s POV
• The morning sun cut through the heavy drapes of my master suite, casting long, sharp blades of light across the dark hardwood floor. I woke up alone in the massive bed. My hand instinctively reached out to the space beside me, encountering only cold, empty silk sheets. I sat up, my gray eyes scanning the room before settling on the connecting door to the east wing. It was slightly ajar. Roxanne had retreated to her own quarters before dawn, slipping away like a ghost after surrendering everything to the devil.
• I leaned back against the headboard, a slow, dark smirk curving my lips as the memories of last night flooded my mind. The heavy desk, the clatter of scattered files, the scent of her damp hair, and the sharp, sudden gasp she made when I claimed her.