Chapter 4 Poisoned Promises

Morning sunlight spilled into the bedroom like judgment.

Amira rose before Jason did. She stood at the window, watching the skyline burn gold, wondering how many other women had stood in her place - or how long it would take before he tired of this body too.

He stirred behind her.

"You're up early," he said, stretching like a cat.

She didn't answer. She didn't trust her voice yet.

Jason rose and came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist again. "You scared me," he whispered. "I thought you wouldn't make it. After the crash..."

She froze.

He sounded sincere. Too sincere.

"I'm here now," she said carefully. "Thanks to you."

He smiled and kissed her temple. "I'll have James make your favorite breakfast - eggs, tomatoes, and that Turkish tea you love."

Turkish tea? Sasha liked that?

Amira didn't. She hated it.

But she smiled anyway. "Perfect."

He left to shower, and Amira wandered through the apartment. Every picture frame still held images of Jason and Sasha. Not a single trace of Amira remained.

She found her way to Jason's study.

The desk was locked. She smiled faintly.

He always used the same password: 1027 - their wedding anniversary.

It worked.

Inside were files, a black notebook... and an envelope.

She opened it.

Inside were photos.

Of her - Amira. Bruised. Dying. Her body sprawled across the marble floor of the penthouse.

Her hand trembled.

Why did he keep these?

Why hadn't he burned them?

Before she could think further, a shadow fell over the doorway.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jason said.

Amira turned slowly.

And smiled. "I was looking for a pen."

Jason's eyes lingered on the open drawer.

"Next time," he said coldly, "ask."

The warmth was gone.

Just like that.

And Amira realized: Jason Lawson had secrets too.

Ones even Sasha never knew.