Everything Naomi Martin had sacrificed was for her family.She had never truly had a choice.In pedigree or in background, she was second to no one—yet choice had always eluded her.So Naomi Martin simply clenched her teeth and endured.Had it been Alice in her place, she would have shattered long ago.Alice couldn’t even name what she felt; she certainly couldn’t claim to share Naomi’s pain.She stood behind Naomi Martin.In that instant, Naomi’s back seemed to broaden, her figure towering.Alice’s hostility toward her—every last scrap of it—dissolved like mist.Sold out by her own mother for money; married to a man who had once been a complete failure.Alice had always thought her life tragic enough, but Naomi Martin made her reconsider.At least Alice now had Joseph—a man who was changing, little by little.A man who was, slowly, becoming worthy.Naomi Martin was a pitiable soul,a woman everyone envied—and pitied all the same.“Give me a chance?”Charles had already dragged himse

“Not bad. Consider that a little payback on your big sister’s behalf.”Naomi Martin, very “pleased,” patted Joseph on the shoulder. “Since you used your sister so cleverly this time, I’ll let it slide. In fact, I’ll give you a merit point. Rack up enough, and your sister will reward you.”Her smile made Joseph feel worse than if he’d seen a ghost.A reward?Joseph: “...?”He’d seen that kick she’d delivered to Charles.With Naomi that formidable, how could he be sure her “reward” wouldn’t be a matching kick for him?He wanted no part of it.His future was to live well with his wife, Alice, and raise a brood of strapping sons.If Naomi insisted on inserting herself, then she’d only ever be a concubine at best.Alice would always be the one.Of course, he only dared think it.Naomi’s leg—a widow-maker—genuinely terrified him.Alice rolled her eyes.Who knew what nonsense churned through Joseph’s head all day?She wasn’t someone who couldn’t tell right from wrong.Naomi had saved her lif

Everything at the kiln was in order. There was nothing more to do for now. The firing would take eight hours. Joseph checked the Patek Philippe he’d won off Charles, noted the time, and decided they would open the kiln when it was due.In the meantime, there was plenty to accomplish. No point wasting the hours.The iron-plate bear he’d just served had lifted everyone’s spirits again. Stranded on an island didn’t have to mean a monotonous diet of grilled fish and boiled meat. With enough care, there were countless ways to make a meal. Joseph was proof.They threw themselves into the work with new energy.If for nothing else, then to raise their standard of living.“Little Joseph, your sister is very pleased.”Naomi took a delicate bite of a pear. “For this roast, I’m giving you another point. You’re one step closer to your reward.”Her red lips traced the fruit, her manner languid yet elegant. The sight alone was enough to keep more than a few eyes lingering.Joseph rubbed his temples.

Naomi Martin’s eyes were wide and pleading. Joseph slid the dagger back into its sheath.“If you’re not hurrying to bathe, what are you doing here?” Joseph rolled his eyes. “If I’d pulled back even a heartbeat later, you’d be blind for life. Do you get that?”Blunt as he sounded, his heart was still rattled.A moment ago, the dagger’s edge had hovered no more than a finger’s breadth from Naomi’s eye.A touch more pressure, and she wouldn’t have stood a chance.Yet Naomi Martin hadn’t so much as flinched. Not even a flicker of fear.Her lashes trembled once. She stared straight at him, eyes clear and unreadable.Naomi blinked, her gaze luminous. “Joseph, darling—if you really want to do anything to me, you don’t have to kill me. As long as you want it, I’ll cooperate with you unconditionally. Anything you desire. I won’t object. I like you that much.”She was the very picture of a coy little darling.Noah Diaz winked shamelessly at Joseph, leering. “Go for it, boss.”“Get lost.”Joseph

The clay they’d used before for firing porcelain had been ordinary—sticky, yes, but otherwise unremarkable. What lay before Joseph now was entirely different. When he crumbled a lump in his palm, glittering granules winked within the mud. They weren’t sand, more like some kind of mineral, shimmering faintly under the moon.Another clod, already dried, bore a frost-white crust along its outer layer—pale and powdery in the moonlight.Most striking of all, this clay bound far better than the kind they’d used before.Joseph couldn’t recall any mention of such soil in the books he’d read. It had to be peculiar to this island’s environment.A bold thought struck him. Could this clay be used to fire porcelain too?It might even yield superior results.A sharp scream tore through his musing.Naomi Martin’s cry rang out from the pool, followed by the heavy plunks of objects hitting water.Damn!His focus had been locked on the clay at his feet. He’d forgotten Naomi. She might be in danger.Jos