Page 105

I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Maybe a suicide?

I don’t show them the note.

I don’t hear from Luke for two years.

Chapter 32

Camila

Xander fetched my bag from the dressing room before rushing off to sort business with Jac, leaving me with Ezra. I agreed—albeit reluctantly—to have him take me back to Xander’s mansion. As much as I’d like independence, I know that the situation I’m in is too dangerous. Compromises need to be made, and the unmissable way Xander looked at me just a couple of hours ago while he filled me up deliciously might have played some part in swaying my decision.

I pull up outside of the apartments. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I see Ezra’s SUV parked just outside the car park but still visible. I can’t deny that him being here gives me a sense of safety. Though, I’d prefer if it was Xander.

Wiping my sweaty hands on my leggings, I exit the car and walk towards the front entrance. I do everything with hurried movements. I’m not here to come back home; I’m here to leave.

Luke is after me. He knows where I am. Or, at least, where I work. Diamond Lounge is closing until further notice. I don’t have another job that will pay for my rent, meaning I have to start dipping into the money I saved for my studio. The one thing that’s kept me going these past couple of years, and it faded right in front of my eyes last night.

My sole focus now is just to make it out alive from this fuckery.

I stick the key in the door and waste no time in bee-lining towards my room, Obsidian following closely behind. Yanking open the doors to my wardrobe, I pull out a small, white suitcase and shove anything I can inside it. Underwear, tops, leggings, jumpers. Heading to the bathroom, I grab a small plastic bag, and using one arm, I guide the contents off the counter and into the bag before thrusting it inside the suitcase. I find a spare gym bag and shove all of Obsidian’s belongings inside it: his food bowls, kibble, and bed. Unfortunately, his scratch tower is too big to fit in there, and I don’t have time to disassemble it.

“Sorry, Sid. We might have to buy you another one.” I give him a sympathetic smile as he tilts his head at me from his perch on the kitchen island.

Zipping up both bags, I scan the room to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or if I’ll even return here. My eye snags on the white box Xander gifted me in the corner of my room.

The charity gala.

So much has happened that I forgot I’d agreed to accompany him. I guess it’ll be more difficult to say no since we’ll be living in the same house. My stomach is a swirl of nerves, those butterflies doing rounds in my belly. Nerves because moving in with a man and trusting him is still a foreign concept. But after the night Xander and I shared, I’m beginning to… trust him.

I grab the box and place it on top of the suitcase, pulling out the handle and carefully wheeling it towards the front door.

This was once my fresh start. My chance at actually doing something with my life. I should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Perching the gym bag over my shoulder and scooping Sid up in my arms, I wheel the case out of the door and lock it behind me.

Ezra waits for me by the exit, his suited-up, broad back taking up most of the window space in the door. I gently knock on the window, and he turns, moving to the side when he spots me. His eyes snag on Sid, but unlike Xander, he doesn’t seem afraid of a furry little thing.

The cold October air whips at my face, and I wish I’d put on a jumper.

“Are you ready, Miss Wilder?” he asks, and I nod back at him.

I agreed to have Ezra take me to Xander’s house. Everyone agreed that it would be better for me to leave the Audi parked at the apartment so that, just in case, I can’t be tracked.

I follow Ezra to his SUV; the entire time my head can’t stay still. I’m looking in every direction from the fear of Luke jumping out at me at any moment. And I’m so accustomed to Xander carrying a gun that I search Ezra’s frame but come up empty.

He takes my bag along with the box, and when we reach the car, he shoves them in the boot like that’s not my entire life in those bags. I round the car to open the door, but Ezra is there in a flash, grabbing the handle and opening it for me.

I smile gently at him. “A gentleman.”

“Just doing my job, Miss.” He eyes Sid as I slide into the back of the car. He jumps out of my arms and curls himself up on the seat next to me. The leather seats are warm; Ezra must’ve kept them heated for us.

Ezra hangs his arm on the car door, a small smile on his full lips as he watches Obsidian. “What’s their name?”

I stroke his fur; he purrs. “This is Obsidian—but I call him Sid.”

“Very fitting,” he compliments.