I closed my eyes, let the wind rush over me, and breathed her name on a whisper of regret and longing.
Lacey Grace—forgive me.
I stayed outside long enough that my fingers ached from the cold—and from my restraint to return. I needed distance. From her. From my thoughts. From the part of me that wanted to crawl back into that bathroom and fall to my knees, beg her forgiveness, pledge myself to her.
When I finally went back inside, I ended up in the one place where I was always in control: my operations room.
I downed a glass of vodka as if it were water.
I’d poured two fingers more than I should have into the heavy-bottomed glass, then thrown it back. My throat burned. My chest went hot. But none of it dulled what I needed dulled.
The bar in my office wasn’t exactly stocked for pleasure. This wasn’t a lounge. It was my command center, my domain, where I was wired to every dark corner of the world. This was the place I watched wars unfold, shifted currency in real time, and launched black market invasions on men I would never shake hands with.
But tonight, it wasn’t underworld trade I was watching.
It was her.
I moved to my desk and dropped into the chair. The vodka settled, smoldering in my gut as I leaned forward and brought up the video feed from the guest suite.
There she was.
Lacey Grace Oakley.
She’d picked up every broken fragment of the vase, made the bed, and put everything back in place as best she could. She’d even put the curtain rod back up.
Seeing the broken window reminded me that I needed to get it fixed.
I tapped a quick message to Rory:Window in guest suite needs replacing. Quiet crew only. No questions.
Then I looked back at the screen. She was curling up on top of the bedspread, dragging one of the pillows into her arms. She hugged it to her chest and buried her face against it.
That was when she started to cry.
Silent at first. Then her shoulders shook. Her small frame trembled as sobs tore out of her in bursts, and all I could do was sit there and watch her fall apart.
God, her pain ripped my fucking heart in two.
I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.
Why her? Whythisgirl?
I’d never let anyone in. Not a single woman. How could I, when I’d grown up watching what my father did to all the women in his life, how he kept them on a leash or under his boot?
I’d sworn I would never be that man.
And yet I’d brought Lacey to my penthouse like she was already mine.
I had made her bleed.
And now, all I could think about was going to her. Holding her. Apologizing. Not with words, because those were empty from men like me—but with something real. Something solid. Something that said,You’re safe now. Something that said,I’ll never let it happen again.
But I didn’t move.
Because if I stepped into that room right now, I wasn’t coming back out the same.
I leaned back in my chair and steepled my fingers under my chin.
She’d gotten beneath my skin. I couldn’t stop thinking about her—the way she looked when she smiled, when she stood her ground, when she shook in my arms.
