I closed my eyes. “It’s not supposed to be this. Whateverthisis. We don’t talk. We don’t do feelings. Just closets and silence and guilt. And I let it happen. Over and over.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I whispered, throat tight. “Because when he touches me, it feels like I’m not broken. Even if it’s a lie.”
Thalia’s voice was steady. “You deserve more than scraps, Sin.”
“I know.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “I just... don’t know how to stop craving him.”
She squeezed my hand. “One day, he’s gonna have to choose. But until then, stop losing yourself trying to hold space for someone who won’t claim you in the light.”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t trust myself to. So I just lay there, hand in hers, the stars endless above us, and let myself feel the cracks in the armor I’d worn for too long.
CHAPTER 11
THEO
Isat across from my father in the same leather chair I’d sat in since I was ten—too small for the room back then, too big for it now. The office hadn’t changed. Heavy books that were never read. Portraits of men in oil paint who passed down their names like swords. The weight of a dynasty pressed in from every corner.
No matter how much I grew, how well I learned to wear the Astor name like armor, I still felt like a child in this room. Because I wasn’t being raised—I was being sculpted. Into an heir. A symbol. A move on someone else’s board.
My father steepled his fingers and observed me like a man studying an asset that wasn’t performing. The fine lines on his face deepened as his eyes cut through me. No preamble. No hello. Just silence like a blade.
“I should’ve had you dragged in by your collar,” he said finally, his voice like ice over fire. “You ignored nine of my calls.Nine.”
“I was busy,” I said, my tone calm, practiced. But my pulse was screaming.
“Oh, you werebusy.” He leaned forward, each word clipped with fury. “Too busy to manage the single most delicate dealI’ve handed you in two years? Too busy to answer me while the fucking Ballantynes were walking away from the table?”
I said nothing.
He stood abruptly, slamming a fist onto the desk so hard I flinched. The scotch in his glass jumped.
“You had Elias Ballantyne removed from the country club, Theo. Dragged out like a goddamn criminal. You humiliated him.”
“He assaulted Si—” I cut myself off, trying to reorder the chaos inside my head. “He assaulted a staff member!”
“I don’t give a single fuck!” he exploded, voice a whipcrack through the silence. “You let your emotions burn down a merger that’s been two years in the making.Two years. Do you even begin to comprehend how that reflects on this family? Onme?”
His face went red, rage crawling up his throat like fire. The calm, polished mask he wore in boardrooms and banquets was gone, fractured and tossed to the floor.
“We’ve been over this already, father?—”
“And we’ll go through it again and again until it gets through your thick fucking skull!” he bellowed, his voice raw and venomous. “Because clearly, you don’t understand the scale of the disaster you’ve unleashed. You don’t grasp what you’ve cost us. What you’ve costme.”
My head dropped forward, chin pressing to my chest as I clenched my fists, forcing the tide of fury inside me to stay down.Inhale. Exhale. Don’t give him more ammunition.
His voice cut through me like a blade. “You think I built this empire on good intentions? On clean hands and fair play?” His laugh was harsh, bitter. “Respect isn’t inherited like wealth. It’s bought. Every goddamned day, with blood and leverage and ruthlessness.” He moved closer. I felt the heat of him, towering, seething. “You don’t win by being good, Theo. You win by beingundeniable. And right now, all you’ve proven is that you’re not ready to carry my name, let alone my legacy.”
“You didn’t build anything,” I said calmly through clenched teeth but shaking inside. “You took what Grandpa gave you. You married Mom—” I froze. That flicker in his eyes was rage, not regret.
“I married your mother because she was a strategic alliance.” His voice sounded like granite. “And she understood her role. That’s why she stayed relevant.”
“You didn’t love her?” I asked more to myself than him. “You don’t love anyone.”
He laughed. Cold. Contemptuous. “Love? Love is for people who die broke. Love is a weakness dressed up as poetry. You want to build a kingdom, Theo? You sacrifice. You play your part.”
“And if I don’t?” The words were out before they even registered.
