But the truth is, I’ve never felt such a powerful pull to a woman—and it only made my mood worse that night, which was already going to hell.
And she didn’t help. She seemed . . . spellbound. Every time I looked her way, she was staring right back. And even though I didn’t want to admit it, the intensity and fire in hereyes had me locked in from the moment I walked into their mom's house.
Even if that sweet little angel wasn’t my best friend’s baby sister, she’d still be off-limits for me.
There couldn’t be two more different people. Darkness and light. That was us.
Even in the way we dressed that night—me, as usual, in black, a color that suits my mood.
Maybe the one thing we had in common was how little we interacted with people.
She didn’t say much all night—just “please” and “thank you.”
In my world, that’s not a bad thing. I can’t stand people who won’t shut up even when they have nothing to say.
Still, Lilly’s detachment didn’t seem like teenage attitude. She didn’t look comfortable, not even around her mother. And honestly, who could blame her? Nora’s unbearable.
She may be Ethan’s mother, but I still can’t stand her. She’s shallow. A snob obsessed with appearances and the illusion of a perfect family. Never gave a damn about her kids—they were raised by nannies, and when they needed more than just a bottle and a bedtime story, she dumped them in elite schools to make sure they got an education fit for royalty.
But that’s not even the main reason I despise her.
That same Christmas night, when Lilly caught us in the library, Nora had just invited me down to the wine cellar.
I’m a grown man. I knew what she wanted. And I told her, very clearly, that I wasn’t interested.
First, she went speechless. Then she batted those fake lashes like she couldn’t believe I was turning her down.
I’m not looking for a relationship, not even a casual one. I pick my partners carefully—and I’d never go near a married woman.
The fact that she’s Ethan’s mother only makes it worse. She knows how close we are.
I don’t care about most people. Ethan is the only exception. It would take a hell of a lot more than a bored socialite to make me risk that friendship.
Like Lilly, maybe?a voice in my head mocks.
“Amos, it’s not like I have a choice. I’m going on a trip—you know I can’t leave her alone,” Ethan says, pulling me back into the conversation.
“Ethan, you’ve lost your mind. We don’t even cook. There’s not a single edible thing in this house.” That’s the least of my worries. I could easily have the maid take care of her meals. What I don’t want is that irresistible little creature wandering around the place.
“So what? There are a million apps for grocery delivery. And don’t forget—Lilly may have spent most of her life in boarding schools, but she’s been living in Paris for two years. I’m sure she can manage basic life stuff. If she needs to go shopping, she’ll figure it out—or she can make a list and Ula”—he’s talking about our housekeeper—”can take care of it.”
“I’m not questioning your sister’s intelligence. I just don’t have the time or the patience to babysit some teenage girl.”
“She’s not a teenager anymore. She’s twenty. She’s got plans, Amos. She wants to finish fashion school and find her own place. But I won’t let her go into adulthood alone after spending most of her life locked away. I’m not dumping my only sister in this city without a safety net.”
And he’s right.
I can’t picture that beautiful, naïve girl living on her own in Boston. She’d be an easy target—and I know exactly what happens to vulnerable girls.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Whether I like it or not, I feel protective of her.
Because she’s Ethan’s sister. That’s all.
“Fine.”
“Fine, what? You’ll keep an eye on her while I’m gone?”
“When do her classes start?”
