My thoughts.
Approval.
From a man like him.
From a father—something I haven’t had in a very long time.
I can’t speak. Not without breaking whatever fragile composure I have left.
So, I just stay silent.
He exhales.
“Well, I don’t suppose I can expect this annulment to go through now, can I?”
“Not a fucking chance,” I answer immediately.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He sounds almost amused. “I land in a couple hours. I can hold her mother back for maybe a day, but don’t expect us to wait more than that before we come see you both.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
The line goes dead.
I hand the phone back to Michail, and he gives me something in return.
The Stavros ring. Cece’s ring.
I look up sharply. He meets my eyes and nods.
“Thank you,” I tell him quietly—in Greek.
“Of course, my prince,” he replies, bowing.
I don’t waste another second.
It feels like I’ve been away from her for years, not minutes. Something in my chest claws and thrashes until I’m moving, walking—no, hunting—back to the bedroom where she sleeps.
As soon as I step inside, I freeze.
She’s awake. Barely.
Staring at me.
Her lashes flutter, fighting exhaustion. She blinks at me like she’s trying to make sure I’m real.
Like maybe she dreamed me.
Like maybe she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
And something in me vows—silently, violently—that I never fucking will.
Not again.
Not ever.
Then she reaches for me, and I move closer.
