Bernard: It will be expected.
Me: Yes. Keep me posted on her arrival, but I’ll be in the club on time.
This day has been absolutely exhausting. The last thing I want to do is pay my regards to the Secretary of State tonight, but Bernard is right. She’ll be insulted if I don’t personally welcome her.
Not all our members also belong to the sex club. It’s an extra perk. Outsiders can’t buy a membership, but we require members to be invested—personally and financially—so the club can’t be weaponized. We also provide complete privacy for those whose public life is heavily dependent on themnotbeing involved in these types of places.
Another text appears, though this one is far more welcome.
Rena: Missing you so much. Sorry we skipped out on story time tonight. The twins were fussy, though they cried for their Papaw before they crashed.
Well, that simultaneously breaks my heart and fills it.
Me: No worries. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Kiss their chubby cheeks for me. How is their beautiful mama?
Rena: Exhausted.
Me: I figured. You’re doing such an amazing job. Why don’t you go to sleep early?
Rena: Ty said the same thing. I think I will. Love you, Axe.
Me: Love you too, sweet girl.
I tuck my phone into my pocket and walk toward my door, only to find Zara with her hand frozen in a mid-knock position.
“Sorry,” she rasps, an unusual innocence cloaking her as she studies the sitting area and wanders in a few steps. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was getting ready to head out, and Maddox thought …”
“I got held up. Someone’s coming in tonight, and I …” Not wanting this to turn into a work discussion, I switch gears. “Did you have a good time?”
She swallows and rolls her lips in, so authentically vulnerable here. “I had the best time. Really.” She glances around again, wrestling with something. “I want you to know they’re safe with me.”
That hits me square in the chest.
“I know they are,” I confess with certainty.
A melancholy smile coasts up her cheeks, and she turns, prepared to leave.
In a flash, I’m behind her, shutting the door before she can escape through it. She keeps her hand on the knob, her forehead falling to the wood, and I can practically hear her heart drumming a solemn dirge. Being here made her lonelier.
Resting one arm above her head, I wrap the other around her waist, my hand splaying over her taut stomach, my nose buried in her vanilla-scented hair. “Don’t go yet.”
“Aren’t there a lot of reasons I shouldn’t be here?”
“Countless.” I nod against her head, unable to stop myself from planting a kiss there, a jagged breath flowing from my lungs with it. “But you are here, and I think we should clear the air. I’ll go first.”
A laden pause thrums between us. Her racing thoughts loom like a living beast. She’s undeniably curious as to whatclearing the airwill entail. She also probably knows it won’t be easy. But the only way through a fire is to accept the impending burn.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Your name was Penelope. They called you Penn.”
ZARA
My chest constricts, my heart lodging itself in my throat. I don’t know what to feel about my childhood name on his lips. I assumed he’d suspected, but I wasn’t certain. And yet it still sends a shock wave through me. No one’s uttered that name since I was a child, let alone the shortened version.
“You’ve known all along.” It’s not a question or an accusation, just a statement floating into the air, so detached from my emotions.
His hand tightens on my stomach, his long fingers gripping my hip bone, pulling my back flush with his chest, his face nestled in my hair. “You look like her.”
