Or was he just a fool still caught in the wreckage she’d left behind?
He grit his teeth, furious with himself for caring.For wondering.For wanting.
He should hate her.Hedidhate her.
But then she’d looked up—wet, pale, exhausted—and squared her shoulders with that same stubborn tilt of her chin.The move was so familiar it nearly undid him.
She looked ready to shatter, but still… she faced him.
That defiance sparked something deep inside him.
No, he thought.Not this time.
She didn’t get to walk away again.
Not after what her brother had done.Not after whatshehad done.
This time, he would control the ending.
He folded his arms, schooling his features into cold detachment as he waited for her to turn.
And when those tired, wary hazel eyes finally met his, he told himself to feel nothing.
She’s a liar.A coward.A woman who took everything—his trust, his time, his heart—and disappeared without explanation.
Now it washisturn.
“Where are you working now?”
He already knew, of course.He’d had the answer before she even stepped into the elevator.He knew about her new apartment, too.It wasn’t in the worst part of the city, but it wasn’t safe either.Not for a woman like her.
Jemma blinked, startled by the question.“What does it matter?”she snapped, lifting that stubborn chin another inch.
“It matters,” he replied coolly, taking a step toward her.“Because I want to know when I’ll be paid for the damages.”
Another step.
“It matters,” his voice dropped lower, darker, “because I want to know if you’ll tell me the truth.”
Her eyes flared.
“I’ve always told you the truth,” she said.
He stared at her—really stared.
And saw the lie.
Not the outright kind.It wasn’t her words that betrayed her.It was her face.
Fear.Shame.A flicker of panic she couldn’t mask.
She was hiding something.
He’d spent years in rooms full of liars—CEOs, politicians, negotiators—and he could read a shift in breath like a headline.
But this wasn’t about business.
He knew her.
