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His words sting, because underneath them, what I hear is his actual statement: You don’t trust me.

I try to choose my words carefully, keep them neutral. “Sebastian, this is a really serious situation⁠—”

“Don’t talk to me about how serious this situation is,” Sebastian snaps and slams his hand down onto the steering wheel, making me flinch.

He sees my reaction and he looks at me with a softer expression, but the air between us is already heavy and tense. Both of us are hurting.

“I’m asking you if you trust me.”

My silence must be enough, because Sebastian’s jaw works as he stares straight ahead at the road in the headlights.

“Sebastian, I have feelings for you. Feelings that make me feel crazy and impulsive, and like I’m burning from the inside out. But we don’t know each other yet. Not really. We’re just learning, and I’m looking at a man who has every reason to lie to protect his legacy, who has more power and money than anyone I’ve ever met. I want to believe you; I’m trying so hard to believe you. But nothing about my past is making this easy. It feels like I’m trying to learn to breathe underwater.”

The city lights strobe across Sebastian’s face as we reach the urban sprawl, highlighting the tightness of his jaw. “This isn’t your past, Isabella. I’m not your father or Mark, or any of the other men who let you down. I don’t deserve to be punished for their sins.”

“I’m not punishing you.” I hate the tremble in my voice. “I’m protecting myself. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” His tone has a warning edge that’s driving up my fight-or-flight instincts, and my pulse quickens. “Because it looks the same to me. You’re building a wall around yourself that I can’t get over, and you’re just waiting for me to fail so you can tell yourself you were right to do it.”

“That’s not true,” I protest.

“Isn’t it? Think about it. If I’m guilty, then you were right to keep yourself safe. You don’t have to open yourself up or be vulnerable because you were right all along. If you’re wrong, then you have to admit you’re the one sabotaging this.”

I want to deny what he’s saying, to argue my point. But he’s not entirely wrong. I am scared. I do have a hard time trusting.

“I want to trust you. I want it more than anything, and I’m trying, Sebastian, I really am. I’m here, aren’t I? But if you expect me to trust you entirely when we haven’t known each other for even a month, that’s completely unfair. You’re asking me because you need someone to make you feel better.”

“I need one fucking person to believe me.” Sebastian forces the words out from between tightly clenched teeth.

“Do you believe yourself?” I ask softly.

He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his voice is quiet.

“Stop looking for the exit, Isabella. Just stay with me for once. Stay in the room with me.”

We’re crossing the bridge, the river below a black void, Manhattan’s skyline looming ahead in a jagged range of light and neon. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time, a reminder of desire and greed, and the things people will do to realize their ambitions.

The silence between us remains frigid and substantial, until Sebastian pulls up at a red light, the wet pavement reflecting the streetlights as sheets of rain form a silver curtain against the headlights.

“What happens if I do trust you?” I ask. “What happens if I trust you completely, help you through this, and it turns out you were playing me all along? What then?”

Sebastian turns to me and takes my chin between his fingers in a touch that is surprisingly gentle, given the fire in his eyes.

“Then I will have destroyed the only thing in this world that actually matters to me.”

I don’t look away from him as the light turns green and Sebastian eases the car forward. I look for the tell in every flash of light, the crack in the mask that will reveal the monster beneath. But I don’t find it. Instead, he looks like he’s bleeding out in front of me, and I can’t stop the hemorrhaging.

I close my eyes and lean my head back.

“I’m here to help you,” I say. “I’m doing the best I can, but Sebastian?”

I open my eyes and face him fully.

“If you betray me, if I find your signature anywhere, don’t expect me to help you hide the body.”

He looks at me, lingering for a moment longer than he should. The hurt in his eyes has become a cold, hard bitterness.

“Noted.”