Griffin still had four more races with Aedris. I still had to secure funding for my program without my father’s strings attached. I had to move out of his place and find somewhere that actually felt like mine. A thousand logistics waited for us in the coming months.
But for the first time in my life, none of that terrified me.
My father’s grip was weakening. We were so close to being free.
And that was enough.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
VIOLET
The apartment listing mocked me from my laptop screen.
Studio. No parking. Single window. £1,200 a month.
I could almost afford it. If I stopped eating. And maybe cut back on air.
I clicked to the next one, each listing more depressing than the last.
Shared house with “vibrant” roommates.
Translation: loud and intrusive.
Basement flat with “cozy dimensions.”
Translation: windowless prison cell.
Hazel squirmed in the bouncer beside me, making happy gurgling sounds as she kicked at the dangling toys. At least one of us was having a good time.
The sound of weights hitting the floor echoed from Griffin’s workout room. He’d been in there since dawn, burning off whatever frustration yesterday’s strategy meeting had built up.
I opened another tab. My doctorate would cost £16,000 per year for tuition alone. I had one year saved and no room for living costs. The math was brutal.
“Looking at something interesting?”
I jumped, slamming the laptop shut. Griffin stood in the doorway, sweaty and shirtless, a towel draped around his neck.
“Just browsing,” I said, too quickly.
His eyes narrowed. “For?”
“Nothing important.”
He crossed the room slowly. A smile pulled at his lips, the kind that meant he knew he’d caught me doing something I didn’t want him to see. He flexed his shoulders, rolling them back with exaggerated casualness, muscles shifting under sweat-slicked skin.
My gaze tracked the movement without my control.
“You know,” he said, voice dropping lower as he moved closer, “you get this look when you’re hiding something.”
“I don’t have a look.”
“You absolutely do.” He braced one hand on the back of my chair and leaned down until his face hovered inches from mine. Close enough that I could see the slight flush across his cheekbones from his workout. “Right now, for instance.”
My pulse jumped. “I’m not…”
He smiled, slow and knowing, then leaned in. His mouth found mine and I melted into it without thinking, my hand coming up to hook behind his neck and tug him closer.
When I was thoroughly distracted, his hand snaked past me and flipped the laptop open.
