“Not anymore. Not tonight or any other night. Leave.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously. “I’m warning you, Kamiyah will regret defying me.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it.”
That gives her pause. She studies me like she’s reassessing a game board. “You’re making a mistake,” she hisses.
I smile, sharp and humorless. “That would be a first.”
Her lips press into a bloodless line. Then she pivots in a whirl of expensive fabric and vanishes down the hall, heels snapping against the tile with fury.
I close the door slowly, locking it. The click echoes through the quiet penthouse.
Behind me, Kamiyah releases a breath that’s half-sob, half-shudder.
CHAPTER TEN
KAMIYAH
The second the door closes behind my aunt, something breaks in me. The breaking begins as a quiet tremor under the ribs. A tightening in the throat. A shiver that wouldn’t stop.
Caden saw it. Of course he did. Because he crosses the room and folds me into his arms before I can pretend I’m okay. And God help me—his arms feel like the only safe place I have left.
Now, an hour later, we sit in his bedroom because I physically can’t be in the same room where my aunt’s voice still echoes in the air.
I sit on the edge of the bed wearing one of his shirts—the soft gray one. It hangs off my shoulder, the hem brushing my thighs.
He’s pacing, frustrated, running through legal strategies with his lawyer over the phone.
I watch him.
Tall, focused, furious on my behalf.
Furious for me.
No one has ever fought for me like this.
Not once.
Not ever.
When he ends the call, he scrubs a hand down his face. “Okay,” he says. “We have a plan. It’s messy, but it’s a start.”
I nod, though my body feels like it’s made of glass.
He sits beside me, shoulders still tight. “She’s trying to destroy your credibility,” he says softly. “But we’re not going to let her. My lawyer found a way to challenge her claim to authority. It’ll slow her down.”
A tear slips down my cheek.
Slow her down.
Not stop her.
He cups the back of my head gently. “Hey. Look at me.”
I do.
And everything I’ve been holding back—fear, anger, grief, longing—pours out in the space between us. “I’m so tired,” I whisper. “I’m tired of fighting her. Tired of being afraid of what she’ll take from me next. Tired of choosing between people I love and the consequences she threatens.”
