Before I knew it, our bags were packed away in the trunk of the same sleek black car that had collected us, and we were slipping into the back seats, the cool leather and air con a welcome change from the constant suffocating heat.
The journey to the airport was quiet. Tense. The hum of tires on asphalt and gravel the only sound between us. His hand rested on the small middle seat only inches from mine. Close enough to touch but he never closed the gap. It was like I could see him slowly rebuilding his walls brick by brick.
The flight was worse. A coffin with wings.
He sat across from me until we were at cruising altitude, then excused himself to the bedroom to make a call. When he returned, he was in a sharp suit, white shirt starched to perfection, posture controlled, eyes hidden behind dark glasses as the world screamed by beneath us. I watched him the whole time. The flick of his thumb against the armrest. The way his jaw clenched every time I shifted.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t touch. But the air between us was electric, the kind that kills before the storm even breaks.
My body still remembered him. Still ached for him. My throat was raw with unsaid things.
I love you.
I hate how much I need you.
I’d give it all up for you.
Exhaustion must have claimed me at some point. I was woken with a start as the stewardess gently rocked my shoulder and told me it was time to disembark the plane and that she hoped I enjoyed my trip. Unable to form any words, I stumbled from the plane and slipped into Theo’s SUV.
Slouched in the front seat, I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes so I could hide. I didn’t want to see the questions in his eyes when he eventually looked at me. So instead, I stayed silent and lost myself in the memories that would be etched into my mind for the rest of my life.
The car pulled up to the curb outside my apartment block. My fingers curled around the door handle, but I hesitated. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the cold settling into his bones. The armor sliding back into place.
“Sin,” he said, voice low. Controlled.
I turned, my chest already cracking open. He reached out and cupped my face, just like last night. But it was different now. Slower. Measured. A closing of a chapter instead of a desperate claw to hold it open.
His hand slid to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, anchoring us together like I was the only thing left tethering him to anything human.
He leaned in, his breath brushing my lips, his eyes boring into mine with that unspoken fury, that unsaid ache.
“Then let’s make that trip count,” he murmured.
Our lips didn’t meet this time. There was no storm. Just silence. Just the weight of goodbye. He let go first, leaned over me and opened my door. The cold rushed in. And just like that, I was gone.
CHAPTER 17
THEO
“Perfect timing, Theodore,” Mom said the moment I stepped into the foyer of the great house. Her heels clicked against marble as she approached, posture flawless, smile sharp. She leaned in, pressing cold, perfumed air kisses to each cheek before her hands settled on my shoulders with more force than warmth.
“I must run—need to go over a few last-minute details with the florist. You know how unreliable people can be when left to their own devices.” She gave me a pointed look that made the hair on my arms rise.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to steady my voice, though my insides were already curling in unease. I’d only just flown in from the Caymans last night, and at Father’s request I was here. Following an abrupt call that offered no explanation, just tobe here.I was summoned to the family estate—that never meant anything good.
“I’m sure your father will explaineverything.” Her dark green eyes—so much like mine, only harder, sharper—locked onto mine, silent and piercing. There was a warning there. Follow his lead.Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
The muscles in my jaw flexed. I let out an unimpressed huff. “I’m sure he will.”
“Don’t be like that, darling.” She rolled her eyes at the sour twist on my face before I had the presence of mind to smooth it away and slide my mask back on—calm, composed, obedient. “There are a couple of options laid out in your old room for the evening. Wear the navy. You look so handsome in navy.”
And with that, she was gone. A blur of heels, tailored silk and perfect gray-streaked brown curls.
The weight of the world—his world—settled back onto my shoulders. I moved through the house with measured steps, the familiar opulence pressing in from every side. Gold fixtures gleamed. Art hung in calculated symmetry. The walls were cream, marble floors filled with museum-like silence.
Unlike his city office, the house wasn’t overtly intimidating. It was subtle. It lulled you into a false sense of security. Comfort. Smiled at you while it slid the knife in your back.
I reached the double oak doors and raised my hand to knock, but I couldn’t?—
