Every trace of tenderness vanished from Ivor's face. He seized Jocelyn's chin in a vise grip, his words grinding through clenched teeth. "Go ahead and try, Jocelyn. As long as you're not afraid of someone ending up dead, I'll play this game with you to the very end."
A contemptuous smile curved her lips. She was about to respond when the door swung open and a nurse rushed in.
"Mr. Sanchez! What are you doing? She just came out of critical condition—let go of her!"
Only then did Ivor realize how far he'd slipped. His fingers loosened, and he forced the savage fury churning behind his eyes back down.
"Noted. Leave the medication and get out. My wife and I still have things to discuss."
The room fell silent again. Ivor studied her face, pale as paper, and frowned with displeasure.
"When are you going to learn to be as considerate as Nellie? She got hurt in that accident too—her face was injured—and she's still worried about you. She's been blaming herself so much she won't even see me."
"She wanted to come apologize to you in person. But I know exactly what kind of reception she'd get here, so I stopped her."
"Even so, she still feels terrible. She's been in the kitchen every single day making soup, just so you'd have something warm the moment you woke up."
"That's the kind of heart she has. And yet you just tried to send her to prison." He shook his head slowly. "That's cold, Jocelyn. Even for you."
He paused, watching her expression, then continued. "Here's what's going to happen. That gallery of yours in Central—I've decided to give it to Nellie to run. I'll have the paperwork sent over shortly. All you need to do is sign."
It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water in her face. Jocelyn stared at him, stunned.
"What... what did you just say?"
"That's mine! It's my premarital asset. What gives you the right to hand my property to someone else?"
The calm mask on Ivor's face cracked apart, revealing the darkness coiled beneath.
"What gives me the right? The fact that you're my wife." His eyes narrowed. "All that talk about finding other men—you were testing me, weren't you?"
"All these years, and you still can't forget him. Why else would you guard this gallery he gave you so fiercely that I can't so much as touch it?"
Pain lanced through Jocelyn's chest. The man in front of her grew more irrational by the second.