Rosalind Lowell woke up to find Alaric Davenport gone again. She was used to it.
She knew he had recently clashed with foreign capital. To prevent these overseas giants from destabilizing the domestic economy, he'd had to suppress them, which meant shifting more of his focus abroad.
Every morning after waking, Rosalind would habitually go check on Little Kenyon.
When she pushed open the door, she saw Alaric Davenport holding Little Kenyon, his movements much more practiced than before. He hadn't had time to shave, and the stubble made his handsome face look even more mature.
Little Kenyon was being exceptionally good, smiling up at Alaric. Alaric gazed fondly at his son, the corners of his mouth turned up in a barely-there smile.
Suddenly, Rosalind's nose stung, and a sharp pain lanced through her heart.
