Page 55 of The Broken Keys

A Thousand Things I Won’t Say

Genuine heartbreak isn’t loud. It’s the sound of every word you’ll never get to say.

It’s one o’clock in the morning. I lift my phone from the nightstand and play the message that was just left. Livianna’s voice crackles through the line.

“Jax, I’m not okay. We need to talk.”

Four seconds of audio and suddenly I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom while my heart hammers against my ribs like it’s trying to break out.

I should delete it and pretend I never heard the vulnerability in her voice, the way it cracks on the word “okay” like she’s been crying.

I should maintain the professional distance I worked so hard to create in my office yesterday, the cold dismissal that cut us both but felt necessary. Instead, I play it again.

“Jax, I’m not okay. We need to talk.”

“About what, Livianna? The fact that we know nothingabout each other after all this time? The fact that neither one of us opened up completely, and now we’re here because of our secrets.”

I sit up, scrub my hands over my beard, and trek downstairs to my study. The house feels enormous around me. Why I let Greg Hemmings talk me into getting something this big is something I wonder about whenever I’m here.

When I bought it, it made sense because this gated community in the Palisades is secure. It has multiple exit routes, private security patrol, and neighbors who value discretion above all else. But tonight, it just feels like a beautiful prison.

I almost went to the Malibu place, but it’s Livianna’s now. I don’t belong there. That, and Livianna’s new home is just a few houses away.

Maybe I wanted to be close to her tonight. It’s a gamble, considering she’s been sleeping at Cash’s place. That was made clear from our interaction today.

My chest aches just thinking about it. I pour myself three fingers of The Macallan 25. My phone sits on the desk, begging for my attention as her voicemail plays on repeat in my head.

The rational part of my mind catalogs all the reasons I shouldn’t call her back. She made her choice. She’s with Cash now, building something with someone who can give her the normal life she deserves. Someone whose past isn’t the kind that gets people killed.

But the other part, the part that fell for her over two years ago, wants to drive to her house right now and make sure she’s taken care of.

I take a sip of my beverage and open my laptop instead, pulling up investment portfolios for review.

Numbers don’t lie. Numbers don’t break your heart or leave voicemails that make you question every decision you’ve made.

I scroll through projections and market analyses, trying to lose myself in the familiar rhythm of risk assessment and profit margins.

A biotech startup in Switzerland. A renewable energy company in Denmark. A tech firm developing quantum encryption.

But my mind keeps drifting to a year ago, to the French Riviera and the week when everything between us was perfect. I sit back and bask in the memory of better days.

Then

One Year Before Now

The Seraphine cuts through azure water like a knife through butter, her twin engines purring as we leave the harbor in Saint-Tropez and head toward Monaco.

Livianna stands at the bow, the wind whipping her hair around her face. One of her sundresses from her collection is clinging to curves that make my pulse race.

“Jax, I still can’t believe this is your yacht.” She turns to me. Her gaze, bright with wonder. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

This yacht is more than a luxury. It’s sovereignty. Two hundred feet of Italian craftsmanship with six staterooms, a helipad, and enough encrypted technology to conduct sensitive business from international waters.

Out here, the threats that follow me on land can’t reach us. Out here, I can just be Jax, the man falling soul-deep in love with a woman who has no idea how dangerous my world really is.

Most people see the exquisite art and infinity pool first.What they don’t see is the hidden armory, the signal jammers, and the escape routes I’ve built into every level.

“This vessel is useful for business meetings that require complete privacy.” I move behind her and my palms settle on her waist. “And an occasional rendezvous.”