“Take. Me. Home.”
There’s something in her voice. I hold her gaze for a second longer, then turn and signal for the car.
The drive is silent. She sits as far from me as possible, staring out of the window like I’m not even there.
I watch her reflection instead. The way she presses her lips together. The way her fingers twist in her lap.
She’s clearly upset, maybe Sofia said something . . .
Either way, suddenly the thought of her walking away, has a feeling stirring in my chest I don’t like.
The apartment is quiet when we return. Anika and Sebastian are asleep which is a relief because I don’t want an audience for this.
Wynter doesn’t say a word as she walks straight past me and down the hall.
I give her a few seconds, then follow.
Her bedroom door is half open. I knock once before pushing it open fully. She’s already pulling clothes from her wardrobe, tossing them onto the bed in rushed, uneven movements.
The black card sits on her bedside table.
“Explain,” I say.
She doesn’t turn around. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters enough for you to quit.”
She exhales sharply, gripping a handful of clothes like she might rip them in half. “You’ve been good to me,” she says. “I appreciate everything. I do.”
“But?”
She finally turns, her eyes hit mine. “But I didn’t know,” she says.
“Know what?”
She gestures around vaguely. “All this was . . .” She sighs. “I thought you were some rich guy who ran a casino.”
“I am.”
Her laugh is hollow. “Yeah. Amongst other things.”
I step closer.
“I didn’t know what you actuallydo.”
Realisation dawns on me, and now I know just what her and Sofia talked about.
“I work,” I say simply. “That’s how I make my money.”
“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend it’s nothing.”
My expression hardens. “Whatever you think you’ve heard—”
“Oh, come on, Ray,” she huffs. “It came from a very reliable source.”
I move in, closing the space between us, and catch her wrists before she can turn away again. She stills.
“I work hard,” I say, low and steady. “I don’t take days off. I don’t take holidays. I built everything I have from nothing.” Her breathing falters. “Whatever else you think you know,” I add, “isn’t important.”
