Ivy’s face blanched in shock. She turned to Jamison, and only after switching her phone to speaker, did she ask, “Was it a hit-and-run, or do you think someone was targeting them?”

Her mind immediately jumped to the Windsor Mansion that had been torched not long ago. This could very well be the second act of revenge from whoever had it out for the family. But what kind of grudge ran that deep? Burning down a house, and now orchestrating a car crash to cause someone to lose their baby?…

The thought left Ivy bewildered and more than a little chilled. After all, she carried the same last name. Sure, everyone knew she and the Windsor family were at odds, but what if their enemy didn’t care? What if they were determined to wipe out every last Windsor, regardless of family drama?

On the other end of the line, Boyd replied, “We’re not sure yet. The driver’s in custody. Right now, it just looks like an ordinary traffic accident—nothing criminal, just a civil case. Compensation should settle it.”

Jamison finished listening and then gave his order: “Look into that driver.”

“Understood.”

After the call ended, Ivy glanced at her husband. “You think the crash was intentional too?”

He nodded. “I bet the Windsors suspect it as well. Trouble is, they don’t have the means to dig deeper. Even if they try, I doubt they’ll get anywhere.”

The Windsor family had been in decline for years; their old connections didn’t hold much sway anymore. As for the wealthy woman who’d just suffered a late miscarriage–she was heartbroken, furious. She probably didn’t care about the Windsor clan’s mess. If anything, once she found out about the family’s enemies, her first thought would be divorce, not cleaning up their problems.

Ivy continued feeding Jamison his dinner, but he gently pushed her hand away, the look on his handsome face full of mock reproach. “I’m full. At this rate, you’re going to have me fattened up like a Christmas turkey.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, giving him a sidelong glance. “Hardly. Dr. Ludwig is as handsome and charming as ever.”

Jamison positively glowed at the compliment from his wife.

Ivy stood up to clear the dishes, and when she came back, he beckoned her over with a curl of his finger.

She sat beside him. “What’s on your mind now?”

“Nothing,” Jamison said, pulling her hand into his, a slight furrow of guilt between his brows. “Originally, I wanted to have the wedding after the holidays. But now… it’ll have to wait.”

He’d told her about these plans before. Ivy didn’t think a big wedding was necessary, but she understood his reasoning and agreed.

Now that Micah was gone–her nephew, not a parent or elder, so there was no strict mourning period–but the whole incident had exploded online. The scandal was still all over social media, and it didn’t look like things would quiet down any time soon. Best to keep a low profile for now.

Otherwise, once word got out about a wedding, the public would be merciless: “Her sister’s family is falling apart, and her brother is flaunting his happiness?” The backlash would be brutal.

Jamison didn’t care what outsiders thought, but he didn’t want Ivy to get hurt.

“It’s fine. There’s no rush for a wedding. We’ll wait until things settle down,” Ivy reassured him.

“You might not be in a hurry, but I am. If I don’t make it official, I’ll never have peace of mind,” Jamison teased, a smile in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes. “With the way the story’s trending, everyone online already knows Mr. Jamison married his own nephew’s ex–girlfriend. Isn’t that more sensational than any wedding? Who doesn’t know I’m a married woman now?”

Jamison’s brows knit together as he stared at her, clearly not having thought of it that way.

“So,” Ivy continued, “you can relax. We’re tied together for good. With my reputation in ruins, who would dare try anything with me?”

Dr. Ludwig raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness. “So, you’re saying internet scandals have their upside?”

“Every cloud has a silver lining,” Ivy replied with a wry smile. “It’s always been that way.”

There are two sides to every coin; with a little perspective, she could always find something to console herself.

Jamison pulled her close, and she nestled into his arms, savoring this rare moment of peace after weeks of chaos.

After a while, thinking back over everything that had happened in the past few months, Ivy looked up at him and suddenly asked, “Do you ever regret marrying me on a whim?”

Jamison looked down at her. “Why would you ask that?”

“They found my birthdate online,” she said softly. “It matches exactly what the Windsors‘ fortune–teller said all those years ago.”

The internet was abuzz with rumors: Ivy was supposedly born under an unlucky star–destined for a short life, saved only by the intervention of some mysterious sage. But her fate was so ill–omened, she’d supposedly bring disaster to those around her. Like Emma. Like Micah.

“I don’t believe in that stuff,” Ivy admitted, her brow creased with worry, “but reading it all… it’s disturbingly accurate. I can handle dragging other people down, but always getting you hurt–I can’t help but feel guilty.”

Jamison’s eyes softened. He pinched her nose with affection. “Why are you letting yourself think like that? Didn’t Naylor say it? It’s a man’s job to protect his wife. That’s what husbands do. How can you call that being a burden?”

“But it’s true. You got hurt with me in the Highlands. Then again, trying to protect me from your sister. And so many other times. Ever since we got together, you’ve had nothing but bad luck, and I haven’t been able to help you at all.”

Ivy was always decisive and unflinching—except when it came to her husband’s repeated injuries. That, she could never shake off. Maybe the internet was right: maybe she really was cursed.

Jamison could sense how much this was weighing on her. He tightened his arm around her shoulder, voice low and firm. “You’re being ridiculous. I don’t need you to protect me. I just need you by my side. That’s all I’ll ever ask.”