He meant well.They all did.
But none of them could help me with this.
“I appreciate it,” I said.“Really.But I have it handled.”
Hurt crossed his face.His expression hardened for just a second before the concern returned.
“If you change your mind,” he said, “I’m here.Day or night.You know that.”
I thanked him and kept walking.My heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing in the empty corridor.I had things to do.A life to sell.
Part of me wanted to tell him.Wanted to grab his arm and sayI’m about to do something terrible to save all of you, and I need someone to tell me it’s okay.But I couldn’t.The words wouldn’t come.And what could he do anyway?What could any of them do?
This was my burden.Mine alone.
I chose my outfit carefully.Navy blue dress, professional cut, modest neckline.Heels that made me feel taller, more confident than I was.I pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail and put on makeup for the first time in days.Concealer for the dark circles.Lipstick in a shade my mother used to wear.
A shield.That’s what it was.A shield for a battle I’d already lost.
The drive to his office took twenty minutes.I spent every one of them gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white.Traffic crawled past the downtown district.A mother pushed a stroller across the crosswalk, her toddler pointing at birds.A couple laughed together on the sidewalk, shopping bags swinging from their arms.
Normal people living normal lives.I wondered what that was like.
I passed the turn for the hospital where my father lay.Didn’t look.Couldn’t afford to think about him right now, about what he would say if he knew what I was about to do.Would he understand?Would he be proud that I was saving his legacy, or horrified at the price I was paying?
I pushed the thought away.It didn’t matter.He couldn’t help me, and I couldn’t help him.We were both trapped in different kinds of cages.
The black glass tower rose against the sky, and this time I didn’t feel intimidated.
I felt resigned.
The lobby was exactly as I remembered it.Marble floors.Cold light.The sharp smell of floor polish and something underneath it, something expensive and chemical.A receptionist who looked at me like I was expected.Because I was.
“Ms.Hughes.”She smiled, professional and distant.“Mr.Antonov is waiting for you.I’ll take you up.”
No security code this time.No private elevator ride alone with my thoughts.She escorted me personally, making small talk about the weather that I couldn’t follow.My mind was already upstairs.Already in that office.Already signing away my future.
The doors opened onto the penthouse floor.She led me down a corridor lined with artwork I couldn’t appreciate, past offices I didn’t see, to the double doors at the end.
“Go right in,” she said.“He’s expecting you.”
I pushed open the doors.
He wasn’t standing by the window this time.He was seated behind his desk, papers spread before him, looking for all the world like a businessman preparing for a routine meeting.He’d taken off his jacket.His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow, revealing forearms roped with muscle.Even seated, he radiated power.
But there was nothing routine about this.We both knew it.
“Ms.Hughes.”He gestured to the chair across from him.“Please.Sit.”
I sat.The leather was cold against my thighs, just like last time.His scent reached me across the desk, stronger now that we were enclosed in the same space.Dark and expensive, with something warm and male underneath.It made my stomach clench in ways I didn’t want to examine.Made me remember the nightmares, the way dream-him had looked at me with those burning eyes.
“You’re early,” he said.
“I didn’t see the point in waiting.”
His expression changed.Not quite approval.More like a hunter acknowledging that his prey had stopped running.“No.I don’t suppose there is.”
He slid a document across the desk.Thick.Official.The kind of paperwork that changed lives.
