I had Walter sell the last few bottles from my father's wine collection. I'd gathered what little strength I had left to meet with José, Harley, and Virgil so I could let them go. I couldn't pay them anymore. I used the money from the wine sales to pay them up until the end of the month. Their shocked and saddened expressions only made me despise myself more.

And then I told Walter and Charlotte they were dismissed, too. I'd fired Charlotte often enough over the years, but I could see in her eyes she knew this time I was very serious. Eventually I'd have to sell the vineyard just to survive, to start over, but I couldn't call forth the strength just yet.

Charlotte and Walter both tried to talk to me, but I didn't want to listen to either of them. Even they had lied to me—the two people I thought I could trust with my very soul. They'd let me believe my father had loved me in the end, and it had only been a cruel, vicious withholding of truth. They'd watched as I made a ridiculous idiot of myself and it hurt.

And Kira . . . my heart stuttered in my chest. The very worst of all. I'd given over the whole of my stupid heart to her—every last part—and all along, she had been lying to me, too. What else was she lying about? What other things would she have me believe, hope for desperately, only to find out I'd been made the fool again? I squeezed my eyes shut as I thought back to that moment in my office when she'd told me she'd been lying to me from the beginning. It had felt like a knife plunging into my heart. The only thought going through my mind had been, not you, anyone else, but please not you, too.

I threw my wine glass against the fireplace in the living room, enjoying the sharp shattering sound of the glass. Bracing my hands against it, I lay my forehead against the cool stone. Even still, weeks after she'd left, just the thought of Kira's name brought a gut-deep, heartsick yearning and a throbbing emptiness. Idiot!

She had told me she had nothing but disgust for Cooper Stratton. And then I'd seen her talking to him, standing close with her hands on his chest, trying to convince him of something. Coop she'd called him. I had recognized the guilty expression when I'd surprised them. Little lying manipulator.

Never again. Never again would I care whether or not someone loved me. I let ice harden over the part of myself that could still be hurt, hating that there was anything left at all. I knew how to do this. I had lived with a frost-covered heart for years, so finding that indifference was not difficult. But it hurt so damn much.

I needed to go to the courthouse and file for divorce, but frankly, I had no idea where Kira was to have her served, and I didn't much want to leave the house anyway. I wasn't going to take her father's money and give him the satisfaction of having me under his thumb. No one was going to control me again, especially that bastard.

Finally exhausted from the simple act of thinking, I fell onto the couch, not wanting to go to my bed tonight—not when it only brought memories of her. The scent of her. And yet I fell into sleep with the sound of her name on my lips.

**********

It was a gray dreary day in downtown Napa, made drearier by the fact that I had just pawned the ring I’d given Kira on our wedding day for some much-needed cash. Shame and embarrassment engulfed me. This was what I'd been reduced to—again. I had originally bought the ring for Vanessa, and yet handing it across the counter to the pawn shop owner had brought a sharp ache to my chest, not because of whom I had bought it for, but for whom I had ended up giving it to. Kira.

I was driving through town on my way back to the vineyard when I spotted Kira's car. I drew in a sharp breath, shock causing me to jerk the wheel. Kira was in Napa? Had she been here all along? Where would she have been staying? She had any number of choices in San Francisco, but here? My heart started drumming rapidly. I pulled my truck to the side of the road and hopped out. There were a couple shops on this block, and a restaurant. I looked through the front windows of the two shops, but didn't see her. What are you doing, Grayson? What exactly do you think you're going to say to her anyway? I had no idea and yet some sort of excited anticipation made my gut clench. She was here. I'd been devastated when she'd told me about her father, acted so harshly, but maybe . . . maybe if I just talked to her, maybe she'd help me understand. I didn't give myself time to reconsider. I just acted.

The restaurant didn't have a window, so I pulled the door open and walked inside to see if I could spot her, hope blooming in my heart. I saw her immediately, walking toward me.

Cooper Stratton was next to her, his hand possessively on her arm.

The room felt as if it tilted under me and all I saw was red. I'd been right about her. That's when she spotted me. A flicker of surprise, followed by a look of something I couldn't identify flashed across her face. Wide-eyed, she looked at Cooper and then back to me, a pleading look in those magnificent eyes. I was gripped by overwhelming rage. My body closed the space between us before I'd even decided to move. "You didn't waste any time, did you?" I gritted out. "Was this your plan all along? Marry me, get the money, somehow take it back, and then . . . him?" She had not only lied to me about her father's involvement in my life, she'd lied to me about Cooper, too. If she truly hated him the way she'd made me believe, she would never give him three minutes of her time, much less be lunching with him. Little fucking liar. Beautiful little liar. Agony ripped at my soul.

Kira took a step back, but not before I caught a whiff of her delicate scent. Sharp longing overwhelmed me, making me want to roar with anguish. She's not yours. She never really was. She'll never be again.