I staggered back a step. “I haven’t lied to you, sweetheart?—”
“Don’t.” He pushed my hand away when I reached for him again. “Lying by omission is still lying. You’ve danced around the truth with half-confessions and misdirections, Theo. Every time I asked for clarity, you gave me fog.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The words spilled out like blood. “I was trying to protect you. To keep you safe.”
He laughed bitterly, eyes dark and glinting. “Safe? You weren’t protecting me, you were protecting yourself—from the truth, from your father, fromus.”
Sin stepped in close, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
“That—right there,” he said, his voice shaking. “That silence? That was your last chance to be honest with me. To tell me what the hell you’ve been hiding. And you locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
His hands rose—gentler now. He cupped my face like he was holding something already broken. Electricity snapped beneath my skin. I leaned into his touch despite everything.
“You need to be honest with yourself first, Theo.” His lips brushed my cheek—a goodbye more than a kiss. “Figure outwhat you really want. Me… or the life your father planned for you. Love—or a cage lined with gold.”
“But…” My throat burned.
Sin held a finger over my lips, the shake in his hand betraying him. “No more words. Not tonight.”
Then he turned, slipping back into the crowd of bodies like smoke. One blink, and he was gone—like he’d never been there at all. But the hollowed-out ache he left behind? That would linger.
My heart had flatlined. How could he speak so clearly while I was drowning in my own contradictions? How had I let it get this far?
I stumbled out of the club; the night slicing against my skin like punishment. My vision blurred, headlights streaking past as I reached my SUV with lead in my feet and fire in my lungs. I sat behind the wheel, fingers twitching, breath uneven—and did the only thing I could.
I hit the green phone icon.
“Hello?” A soft, sleepy feminine voice filtered through. “Theo? It’s late. What’s wrong?”
A sigh cracked from my chest. “We need to talk. Can I come over?”
“Now?”
I snorted bitterly. “I can come tomorrow, if that’s easier.”
A groan and the rustling of sheets came down the line. “Itistomorrow. It’s four a.m.” A pause. “Is this a coffee or hard liquor conversation? I need to be prepared.”
“Either. Both. I don’t know.” My voice felt raw, scraped bare.
“Well, that’s helpful,” she muttered, but there was affection behind it. Then a sigh. “Alright. I’ll text you the address.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
The call ended. I dropped the phone into the passenger seat and gripped the wheel until my knuckles ached. I didn’t knowwhat I was going to say yet. But I knew one thing—I couldn’t keep running from the truth anymore.
Sin had held up the mirror—and now I had to look. Even if I hated what I saw.
Once I had her address, I put the car into drive and followed the automated voice. Luckily, she was halfway between Marlow Heights and Brookhaven Ridge—just over an hour later, I pulled into the underground parking garage of a sleek, glass-walled high-rise that looked like it belonged in some ultra-lux fashion spread.
Rosalie’s directions were precise, as was everything about her. Elevator at the far end. Key card she’d left at the front desk. Penthouse. Of course, it was the penthouse.
The doors opened directly into her apartment. I stepped into a space that didn’t feel lived in, justcurated—floor-to-ceiling windows, soft cream-pink-and-gold decor, marble floors that clicked under my shoes. Everything was immaculate. Empty, too.
Rosalie appeared a few seconds later from a hallway, robe cinched tight at her waist, a steaming mug in one hand, blond hair twisted up in a messy knot. She raised a brow.
“Theo? What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to you.” My voice came out more strained than I meant it to.
