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We are in Romania, after all.

The place I chose to run to so I could lick my wounds. Like a teenager going through her first heartbreak.

Pathetic, I know.

Except this doesn’t feel like a simple heartbreak.

It feels like I’ve had something ripped out of me and I’m trying to figure out how to function around the empty space left behind.

I don’t know how long it will take to stop checking my phone out of habit. How long until I can hear his name without feeling that familiar pressure tighten around my chest. How long until the images burned into my mind finally lose their sharpness.

Maybe that’s why I came here.

When you no longer know where to go to feel safe, you retreat to the place that gives you the most peace.

And for me, apparently, that place is Romania.

THIRTY-FIVE

Zayn

“Zayn, did you come alone?”

“Where is Selene, Zayn?”

“Is it true you’re in a relationship? Why is she missing tonight?”

“Zayn, are you single again?”

“Zayn…”

The noise and irritating questions from the reporters disappear the second I step into the ballroom hosting the Hartho event.

My men form a circle around me, making sure I get from the car to the entrance without any trouble. I knew this would happen, which is exactly why I took every security measure possible.

“Finally here,” Colt greets me the moment I reach them.

They haven’t entered the event hall. All of them are waiting in some storage room packed with stacked tables and chairs. Apparently, nothing starts without me.

Too bad.

Because I would have preferred the entire night to happen without me here.

“We can go in now. You ready?” Ryan asks, staring directly into my eyes.

I don’t answer. I simply walk past them and head to the same door I came through not even a minute ago, led by one of Colt’s men.

“Hey,” Ethan says, catching my arm. “You sure you can handle the speech?”

His question irritates me even more than I already am.

No. Actually, irritated isn’t the word. I’m fucking furious. Livid.

I yank my arm free from his grip and turn on him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap. “If you cared that much about my well-being, you’d tell me the only thing I actually give a shit about instead of forcing me to waste my time here.”

Ethan throws his head back, muttering something under his breath.