I can’t.
But the silence without him feels wrong. Like I’m holding my breath, waiting for a sound that doesn’t come.
I know Nikolai’s right. If Benedikt comes back, the freedom I wanted will be gone forever.
3
Sienna
The box in my hands feels heavier than it should.
Not from the contents—I’m only taking the last of my things—but because every step closer to the front door of Benedikt’s house makes my chest tighten.
I tell myself I’m ready. I’m organized. I’m just reclaiming the things I left behind, putting the past in its box, and carrying it out for good.
The house doesn’t really feel empty. There’s a lingering warmth in the air, a faint trace of him on the couch cushions, and his scent still clinging to the hallway banister.
I shake my head. It’s ridiculous. He’s gone.
Exiled.
Out of the country.
Out of my life.
I set the box on the kitchen counter for one last look around just to torture myself. I remember talking to Lucy on the phone in this very room while he fucked me without asking.
I was trying to concentrate, and he was busy trying to own me.
I hated everything about it.
And I loved how much he couldn’t resist.
He used me, made me come, and then shamefully made me want more.
I turn to grab my box to leave and continue to work on forgetting everything that’s happened in the past several weeks, but then, I freeze.
Standing in the doorway, framed by the kitchen lighting, is the man I sent away.
The man I rejected, denied, and betrayed.
His hair is longer than I remember, a little unkempt, and the suit jacket over his shoulders gives him the effortless menace he’s always had. His dark eyes lock on mine, and the familiar ache—the mix of fear and desire—grabs my stomach.
He came back.
Just like I knew he would.
“Hello, princess,” he says, voice low and measured.
My cheeks warm, and my hands tighten on the box as he invades the kitchen.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I manage, even though my pulse is doing somersaults and my throat’s closing. “You were?—”
“Gone?” His mouth twitches like he’s amused by the lie. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
He takes another step forward—slow, like he’s testing how much space he can steal before I push back.
