𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞
I am the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
Francesca "Frank" Monroe. One of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in the history of Illinois. The woman everyon...
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It was Christmas Eve.
My mother and sister were probably fussing over dinner, making everything perfect like they did every year. A big family gathering, the kind that was supposed to mean something. But looking down at the woman asleep in my arms, her breath slow and steady for the first time all day, I couldn't bring myself to care.
Nothing else fucking mattered.
Not the holiday. Not the people waiting for me. Not the world outside this room.
I wanted to stay here, buried in the quiet with her. I wanted to rip out whatever dark, festering memories were eating her alive from the inside. I wanted to hunt down every single ghost that kept her up at night and make them bleed.
Frankie stirred, her body shifting against mine, and when she finally lifted her head, her eyes met mine—sleepy, exhausted, guarded even now.
"What are you still doing here?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
I pushed the wild strands of hair from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips-slow, lingering, possessive.
"Didn't I tell you?" I whispered against her skin. "I'm not going anywhere."
She let out a half-hearted huff, like she was amused but still waiting for the moment I'd prove her wrong. "But you have work," she muttered. "Meetings. Important places to be." A pause, hesitant. Then, softer, "It's Christmas Eve. Your family's expecting you."
I chuckled, low and dark. "I got nothing more important than this. Nothing more important than you." My grip tightened around her, anchoring her to me. "So, too bad for you, because I'm fucking staying."
That got me a smile-small, fragile, but enough to make something in my chest twist. For a second, everything felt still, like the world had stopped turning just to let me memorize the way she looked at me.
Then-
A crash. Glass shattering.
The moment ruptured, sharp and sudden.
Frankie and I bolted upright, moving fast down the hall toward Noah's room. The door flew open, and I came to an abrupt stop. Jesus.
Noah was tearing through his room like a man possessed. His gaming setup was in ruins, a baseball bat swinging wildly in his grip, smashing everything in reach. His breathing was ragged, his movements frantic.
Frankie ran straight for him, trying to pull him back, but he was too far gone. I moved in slower, controlled, my focus locked on the bat as I closed the distance.
"Noah," I said evenly. He didn't look at me, didn't even register I was there.
I reached for the bat, my grip firm but patient, prying it from his fingers as Frankie clung to him.
