This is what love is supposed to look like. Easy. Real. A partnership where you argue about sports cars and bake apology cookies and never, not once, have to hide bruises under your sleeves.
I think about Matteo’s proposal.
A fake marriage. A business arrangement. A means to an end.
Standing here in my parents’ garden, surrounded by people who love each other genuinely, the idea feels almost dirty. Wrong in a way I can’t quite name.
But then I think about Viktor. About the texts. About that smile he gets when he knows he’s scaring me—the one where his mouth curves but his eyes stay cold. The one that says he’s enjoying this. About how scared I am, all the time, and how tired I am of being scared.
Matteo offered me a way out. Protection. Safety.
Maybe I’ll never have what Julian and Harper have. Maybe I’m trading the chance at something real for something that’s just safe enough to survive.
Right now, I don’t care.
I just want to stop looking over my shoulder.
9
SIERRA
He’s here.
I spot Matteo the second I step behind the bar, in the same spot as the last two nights. End seat, eyes scanning the crowd like he’s cataloging every face, every exit. The man doesn’t know how to relax. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to.
I grab a glass, fill it with soda, and walk over. My pulse kicks up a notch. It’s annoying how aware I am of him now. The way his broad shoulders fill out that black T-shirt, the hard line of his jaw, the way those blue eyes track me as I move closer.
I set the glass down in front of him and lean my forearms on the bar, tilting my head. “Guess you just can’t stay away.”
Not even a flicker of a smile. “You make a decision?”
Straight to it. No small talk. No flirting back.
“You’re really blunt, you know that?”
“Yeah.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “Viktor contact you today?”
I try not to flinch. Fail.
“No, but...” My voice trails off, and I hate the tremor in it.
“What?” His gaze sharpens.
“I saw him drive by my apartment earlier. Before my shift.”
His fingers tighten around his glass. The muscle in his jaw ticks once, twice. He looks more bothered by this than I expected, and I don’t know what to do with that. I thought he’d be excited that there was a sighting.
I should get back to work. Nell keeps shooting me curious glances from the other end of the bar, and I’ve got a row of empty glasses that need refilling. But my feet stay planted.
“What’s really in this for you?”
“I told you, Viktor is my enemy.”
“Yeah, but there’s got to be more to it.” I don’t know why I’m so sure. I barely know this man. But I feel it, deep in my gut. “What is it?”
For a long moment, he just stares at me. Then he looks away, jaw working like he’s wrestling with something he doesn’t want to say.
“I don’t like seeing women get hurt.” He says it like a secret.
