Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

THE HOUSE THAT BELONGED TO HIM

WHITNEY

Eight Years Earlier

I was eighteen years old and stupid enough to believe love could make someone stay.

“Avery!”

He kept walking.

A black duffel bag hung from one shoulder as he crossed the wide stone driveway in front of the Martago mansion.

His car waited beneath the security lights, engine running.

Beyond it, the enormous iron gates stood open.

Open.

I remember noticing that.

Maybe because nothing on Martago Island ever really felt open.

Not for me.

“Avery, wait!”

He didn’t.

I ran after him.

My shoes slapped against the stone, the sound too loud in the humid night.

“Avery!”

He reached the back of the car and opened the trunk.

I grabbed his arm.

His entire body went rigid.

“Don’t.”

One word.

Quiet.

Not angry.

Somehow that hurt worse.

“Please.”

He pulled free.

“Go inside, Whitney.”

“No.”

His jaw tightened.

“You don’t want to do this.”

“I do.”

“You don’t even know what this is.”

“I know you’re leaving.”

“Yes.”

“For California.”

“Yes.”

“And you weren’t going to say goodbye.”

He tossed the duffel bag into the trunk.

“Goodbye.”

My heart cracked.

“Avery.”

He slammed the trunk.

I moved between him and the driver’s door before I could lose my nerve.

He stared down at me.

At twenty, Avery Cole already looked dangerous.

Not because he was huge.

He wasn’t.

Not because he carried a weapon.

I’d never seen one on him back then.

It was something else.

Something in his eyes.

Caramel brown.

Beautiful.

Cold.

Avery had a way of looking at people as though he already knew what they were going to do and was simply waiting for them to catch up.

Most of the time, those eyes were impossible to read.

Except when they weren’t.

I’d seen them not cold.

Once.

Maybe twice.

Enough to convince an eighteen-year-old girl of something she desperately wanted to believe.

That he wanted me too.

There had been a family movie night a few weeks earlier.

Sierra had insisted on watching some ridiculous horror movie even though she hated horror movies. Halfway through, something jumped onto the screen and I grabbed Avery’s arm.

He looked down at my fingers.

Then at me.

He hadn’t pulled away.

Later, Sierra had fallen asleep during Cinderella because apparently horror movies followed by Disney princesses made perfect sense in Sierra’s mind.

Avery sat beside me.

Quiet.

Close.

Close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.

I remembered looking at his hand resting on the couch between us.

Then at his face.

He caught me staring.

Neither of us spoke.

His fingers lifted.

He brushed a strand of hair away from my cheek.

Such a tiny thing.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But I had never forgotten the way he’d looked at me afterward.

I thought he was going to kiss me.

I wanted him to.

So I leaned toward him.

Avery stood.

Just like that.

He walked out of the room without saying a word.

But I’d seen his eyes.

I knew what desire looked like.

I’d grown up watching Dwayne look at my mother with it.

Avery had looked at me the same way.

So I believed.

Maybe that was my first mistake.

“I love you.”

Avery froze.

There.

I’d said it.

The words I’d practiced alone in my bedroom.

The words I’d sworn I would never actually say.

His back remained toward me.

I forced myself to continue.

“I’ve loved you for years.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Whitney.”

“Please don’t go.”

His eyes closed.

“Don’t beg me.”

“Then stay.”

“No.”

“Why?”

He finally looked at me.

“Because I don’t want you.”

Lie.

I could feel it.

Maybe that made me foolish.

Maybe desperate.

But I knew Avery.

At least I thought I did.

“You’re lying.”

His eyes sharpened.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

He stepped toward me.

I should have backed away.

I didn’t.

His hand came up.

Not around my throat.

Not hurting me.

His fingers caught my chin, tilting my face until I had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re asking for.”

“Then tell me.”

“You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

His face moved closer.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“I think about you.”

My breath caught.

“I think about kissing you when I shouldn’t.”

Hope exploded inside me.

“Avery—”

“I think about things I have no business thinking about when you’re anywhere near me.”

My lips parted.

His thumb moved once along my chin.

Barely touching.

“And that,” he said quietly, “is exactly why I’m leaving.”

My smile disappeared.

“What?”

He released me.

Stepped away.

“You think wanting somebody means you’re good for them?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

“Then help me understand.”

He dragged a hand through his hair.

“You’re eighteen.”

“So?”

“You’ve spent your entire life on this island.”

“I can leave.”

“No.”

Anger sparked.

“My father doesn’t control me.”

Avery laughed.

There wasn’t a damn thing funny about it.

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell Dwayne you’re coming with me.”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Avery nodded.

“Exactly.”

“I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know your father better than you think.”

“Then take me away from him.”

Avery stopped.

Completely.

I hadn’t planned to say it.

But once the words existed between us, I wanted them to be real.

I wanted him to open that passenger door.

I wanted him to tell me to get inside.

I wanted to leave Martago Island and never look back.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Why?”

His gaze moved across my face.

“Because if I take you tonight, there is no giving you back tomorrow.”

My breath caught.

“I don’t want to come back.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, Whitney. You don’t.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Then let me.”

For one second, something broke through his expression.

Something raw.

Hungry.

Almost painful.

He stepped closer.

His fingers touched my cheek.

So gently it hurt.

I leaned into his palm.

I thought I’d won.

Then his expression changed.

The softness vanished.

The desire disappeared behind something colder.

Avery Cole shut me out.

“You want to know me?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

He leaned down.

“You’re a spoiled little girl with a crush.”

I flinched.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You’ll forget me.”

“No.”

“You’ll meet somebody.”

“I don’t want somebody.”

“You will.”

“I promised myself I’d wait.”

His jaw tightened.

“Don’t.”

“I will.”

“Whitney.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

Then disappeared.

He stepped around me and opened the driver’s door.

I grabbed his hand.

“Please.”

He looked down at our hands.

For one terrible second, I thought he might change his mind.

Instead, he carefully removed my fingers from his.

One at a time.

“You want one piece of advice?”

Tears burned my eyes.

“What?”

His voice dropped.

“Stop waiting for people who choose to leave.”

Then he got into the car.

I stood there.

Crying.

Humiliated.

Heartbroken.

But before Avery closed the door, he looked at me one final time.

And for just a second, I saw it.

Pain.

Not disgust.

Not indifference.

Pain.

Then the door closed.

The car pulled away.

I watched the taillights disappear through the gates.

What I didn’t know was that Dwayne had watched the entire conversation.

I didn’t know someone had told him I’d followed Avery outside.

I didn’t know my father had heard enough to understand exactly what I wanted.

Avery.

Freedom.

A life beyond Martago Island.

Three things Dwayne Martago had absolutely no intention of allowing me to have.

Before sunrise, my father would decide his daughter needed to be reminded of the rules.

And Dwayne’s lessons were never gentle.

By morning, Avery Cole was gone.

And the girl who had begged him to stay was gone too.

Present Day

Eight years later, I was finally going to California.

To Avery’s house.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

Avery wasn’t there.

He was in Florence.

I wouldn’t see him.

I wouldn’t hear his voice.

And I certainly wouldn’t make the mistake of wanting him again.

For once, fate seemed willing to cooperate.

I should have known better.

“Remember the rules, Whitney.”

I stared through the tinted window of the SUV and counted backward from ten.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

At seven, I considered hanging up.

At six, I remembered that Dwayne Martago owned enough people to know exactly when I stopped answering his calls.

At five, I remembered Nikolai Volkov.

At four, I remembered my mother.

At three, I remembered the scars hidden beneath my clothes.

“Yes, sir.”

The SUV went quiet.

Sierra’s smile disappeared.

Cassy stopped talking.

Piper lowered the champagne she’d been drinking.

And Aurora Monroe, sitting beside Sierra, slowly looked away from the window.

Perfect.

We hadn’t even been in California an hour and my father had already managed to crawl through my phone and wrap an invisible leash around my throat.

“You will call me when you arrive at the house.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will keep your phone with you.”

“Yes.”

A pause.

Damn it.

“Yes, sir.”

Across from me, Aurora’s eyebrows pulled together.

I ignored her.

Another pause came through the phone.

Longer this time.

I knew exactly what was coming.

“And Avery is off-limits.”

My fingers tightened around my phone.

The Los Angeles skyline glittered beyond the dark glass.

Beautiful.

Huge.

Free.

And somehow Dwayne could still make me feel like I was standing barefoot in his office waiting for permission to breathe.

“I remember.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

My teeth clenched.

“Yes, sir.”

“If he returns unexpectedly, you stay away from him.”

I nearly laughed.

Eight years.

Avery hadn’t called me once.

Hadn’t written.

Hadn’t come home.

Hadn’t sent so much as a drunken happy-birthday message.

Staying away from me seemed to be one of Avery Cole’s greatest talents.

“That shouldn’t be difficult.”

Dwayne went quiet.

“What does that mean?”

“It means Avery doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Sierra’s eyes found mine.

Aurora looked at Sierra.

I immediately regretted saying it.

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?”

Wrong question.

“Whitney.”

That one word traveled more than a thousand miles and still made my back prickle.

“I understand, sir.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I will not tolerate another embarrassment.”

My hand started shaking.

I curled my fingers around the phone harder.

I hated that.

I hated that he could still do this without even being in the same state.

“I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“No,” Dwayne replied. “Which means you should know better.”

“I said I understand.”

“Do not test me.”

Everything inside me went cold.

Those words.

Always those fucking words.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

The line disconnected.

I kept the phone against my ear for another second.

Then slowly lowered it.

Nobody spoke.

Five women inside a luxury SUV, and suddenly you could hear nothing but the hum of tires against pavement.

I forced a smile.

“Well. Wasn’t that a delightful father-daughter moment?”

Cassy looked horrified.

Piper looked pissed.

Sierra looked suspicious.

Aurora looked concerned.

“Why do you call him sir?” Aurora asked.

I tossed my phone into my purse.

“Because His Royal Assholeness enjoys formality.”

“We’ve heard you do it before,” Sierra said. “But that was…”

“Creepy?” Piper supplied.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Piper.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Can we please discuss literally anything else?”

Sierra watched me.

So did Aurora.

That was worse.

Sierra had known me almost my entire life.

Aurora was quieter about noticing things, but that didn’t mean she missed them.

Especially not when something felt wrong.

And right now everything felt wrong.

Dwayne.

Nikolai.

The engagement nobody in this car knew about.

My mother’s life hanging over my head.

And Avery.

Always fucking Avery.

“Whitney,” Aurora began carefully.

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask anything.”

“You were going to.”

Her lips twitched.

“Maybe.”

“I love you. Don’t.”

Aurora held my gaze for another second.

Then nodded.

“Okay.”

Thank God.

Sierra wasn’t nearly as merciful.

“You know I’m going to ask later.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“I’ll hide.”

“I’ll find you.”

“I’ll drink.”

“I’ll wait.”

Piper lifted the champagne bottle.

“I can assist with the drinking portion.”

I reached for it.

“Finally. Someone useful.”

That broke the tension.

Cassy laughed.

Aurora shook her head.

Sierra muttered something about us being impossible.

And for the next hour, we talked about anything except fathers, Russian mob bosses, scars, forced engagements, and men named Avery Cole.

Los Angeles looked almost unreal.

Sunlight bounced from glass buildings.

Palm trees lined streets packed with traffic.

Cars seemed to operate under the theory that everyone should move simultaneously while accomplishing absolutely nothing.

“Is traffic always this terrible?” Cassy asked.

“Yes,” the driver answered.

“We’ve moved six feet.”

“Yes.”

“Is that normal?”

“Yes.”

Piper leaned forward.

“Are Californians okay?”

The driver’s mouth twitched.

“No.”

Aurora laughed.

So did I.

That felt good.

Normal.

For a little while, we could just be women on a bridal trip.

Sierra talked about dinner.

Cassy wanted dancing.

Piper wanted attractive men.

Aurora wanted to actually see Los Angeles rather than spend the entire trip drunk in a nightclub.

I wanted enough alcohol to forget I’d apparently become secretly engaged to a Russian mafia boss.

I didn’t say that part.

Eventually the skyscrapers disappeared behind us.

The roads narrowed.

The houses became larger.

Farther apart.

We climbed higher into the hills.

Cassy looked outside.

“Where the hell does Avery live?”

Sierra glanced up from her phone.

“Not much farther.”

“I thought he lived in Los Angeles.”

“He does.”

“This looks like we’re leaving civilization.”

“Avery likes privacy.”

I looked at her.

“Since when?”

“Since always.”

“No. Avery used to sleep with his bedroom door unlocked.”

Sierra glanced at me.

Piper’s head whipped around.

Cassy grinned.

Aurora’s eyebrows lifted.

I realized what I’d said.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Piper said.

“Your face did.”

Sierra smirked.

“How do you know Avery slept with his bedroom door unlocked?”

“Because we all lived on the same island, you pervert.”

“Sure.”

“Fuck you.”

“Bride.”

“I hate that word.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

The SUV rounded another bend.

And all humor vanished.

A black wall appeared.

Not a fence.

A wall.

It stretched along the property farther than I could see.

Cameras were positioned at intervals.

Lights.

Sensors.

Security posts.

Then I noticed a man near the first gate.

A rifle rested against his chest.

“Is that an armed guard?” Aurora asked.

Nobody answered.

The SUV slowed.

Two massive steel gates blocked the road.

A security camera rotated toward us.

Then another.

Cassy leaned between the seats.

“Are we staying with your cousin or entering a small country?”

“Avery likes security,” Sierra said.

I stared at her.

“Likes?”

The driver lowered his window and pressed the intercom.

Static crackled.

Then a man’s voice erupted from the speaker in rapid Italian.

Rough.

Impatient.

The driver answered.

“I’m delivering Miss Martago and her guests.”

Silence.

“Names.”

“Sierra Martago, Whitney Martago, Aurora Monroe, Cassandra Hale, and Piper Lawson.”

There was another burst of Italian.

Then:

“Wait.”

The speaker died.

We waited.

Thirty seconds.

One minute.

Two.

Piper leaned toward me.

“If a helicopter appears, I’m leaving.”

Aurora glanced at the wall.

“How?”

Piper considered that.

“Good point.”

The gates finally opened.

Slowly.

The SUV rolled through.

And my mouth parted.

Avery didn’t own a house.

Avery owned a fucking compound.

The driveway curved through manicured grounds bordered by tall trees.

Security lights were hidden between them.

Another gate waited farther ahead.

There were several buildings separate from the main residence.

Men moved between them.

Men in dark clothing.

Men carrying weapons.

Not concealed handguns.

Rifles.

Holsters.

Real security.

Serious security.

“What exactly does Avery do now?” Aurora asked quietly.

Sierra’s expression changed.

I noticed.

So did Aurora.

“He owns businesses.”

Cassy stared out the window.

“So does Walmart. I don’t see armed men patrolling the parking lot.”

“Those aren’t—”

Piper pointed toward a distant rooftop.

“That man has a rifle.”

Sierra grabbed her wrist and lowered her hand.

“Don’t point at armed people.”

Aurora nodded solemnly.

“That seems like a very good rule.”

“Finally,” Sierra muttered. “Someone with common sense.”

I stared through the windshield.

The main house rose ahead of us.

Dark stone.

Glass.

Three stories.

Sharp lines.

Black steel.

Beautiful in the same way a blade could be beautiful.

Cold.

Elegant.

Dangerous.

It suited him.

And that realization bothered me.

Because this wasn’t the home of the twenty-year-old man I’d begged not to leave.

This belonged to someone else.

Someone Avery had become while I wasn’t looking.

The SUV stopped beneath a covered entrance.

Before the driver could open his door, six men approached.

Cassy stared.

“Oh, absolutely not.”

My door opened.

A huge man looked down at me.

“Out.”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Out.”

“I heard you. I was giving you an opportunity to improve your manners.”

“Whitney,” Sierra hissed.

“What?”

“Maybe don’t antagonize the heavily armed Italian.”

“He started it.”

Aurora covered a smile.

The man’s mouth twitched.

I climbed out.

Piper followed.

Then Cassy.

Aurora and Sierra exited from the opposite side.

Another man reached for the luggage.

Cassy immediately grabbed hers.

“Hey.”

“Security check.”

“You’re not opening my luggage.”

He opened it.

Cassy gasped.

“Those are private!”

I looked inside.

Red lace.

Black lace.

Something with straps I couldn’t immediately identify.

I slowly looked at her.

“Bridal trip?”

“Shut up.”

Aurora laughed.

Then a voice came from behind me.

“Ladies.”

Deep.

Italian.

Commanding.

I turned.

Oh.

Well.

That was unfortunate.

He was tall.

At least six-three.

Broad shoulders stretched a black button-down shirt.

Dark trousers.

Black boots.

His nearly black hair was long enough to be pulled into a neat knot at the back of his head.

A scar cut through his left eyebrow.

Another ran along his jaw and disappeared beneath his collar.

Blue eyes.

Very blue.

Very irritated.

Very attractive.

Dwayne would hate him.

My interest immediately doubled.

He stopped several feet away.

His gaze traveled over Sierra.

Cassy.

Piper.

Aurora.

Then me.

Something changed.

Barely.

His eyes narrowed.

“Which one is Whitney?”

I smiled.

Nobody answered.

Sierra grabbed my wrist.

His gaze dropped to her hand around me.

Then returned to my face.

Well.

So much for anonymity.

“Miss Martago?”

Sierra stepped forward.

“Yes.”

His eyes stayed on me.

“Which Miss Martago?”

Sierra frowned.

“Why?”

“Answer.”

Her eyebrows shot upward.

“You don’t order me around.”

One of the guards suddenly found the ground fascinating.

The dark-haired man exhaled.

“Signorina, I have been instructed—”

“By Avery?”

Silence.

Sierra smiled.

“I knew it.”

“Your luggage must be inspected.”

“Fine.”

“And everyone must be searched before entering the main residence.”

My amusement disappeared.

Sierra’s did too.

“Absolutely not.”

“It is protocol.”

“We’re family.”

“Protocol.”

“You already searched our luggage.”

“People carry weapons on their bodies.”

Piper raised both hands.

“I don’t.”

Cassy copied her.

“Me either.”

Aurora frowned.

“You’re seriously going to search us?”

“Yes.”

Sierra glared.

“This is ridiculous.”

The man spoke rapidly in Italian.

The guards moved.

One approached Cassy.

Another Piper.

One headed toward Aurora.

Another toward Sierra.

Then one stepped toward me.

I instinctively moved backward.

The dark-haired man’s attention snapped toward me.

He barked one word.

“Fermo.”

The guard stopped instantly.

An argument followed.

Quick.

Italian.

Sharp enough that I didn’t need a translation to understand who was in charge.

The dark-haired man pointed toward the others.

The guard who’d approached me backed away.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“You stopped him.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

His blue eyes met mine.

“Orders.”

“Whose?”

No answer.

I smiled slowly.

“Avery’s?”

His jaw flexed.

Interesting.

“Does Avery have specific instructions about me?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you answer too few.”

His expression changed.

Then he said something that wiped the smile straight off my face.

“You haven’t changed.”

I stared at him.

“You know me?”

His face went blank.

“No.”

“That sounded like you did.”

“I know about you.”

My stomach tightened.

“From Sierra?”

“No.”

Too fast.

I looked at Sierra.

She looked just as confused as I felt.

Aurora was watching him now too.

I turned back.

“From Avery.”

Silence.

There it was.

The man turned away.

“Take their luggage upstairs.”

“Wait.”

He continued walking.

“Man-bun.”

He stopped.

Every guard within hearing distance looked at me.

Slowly, he turned.

“Did you call me Man-bun?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“You could ask.”

“Fine. What’s your name?”

“Enzo.”

“Enzo what?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Enzo is sufficient.”

“Okay, Man-bun.”

Piper choked.

Cassy covered her mouth.

Aurora actually turned away so he wouldn’t see her laughing.

Sierra whispered, “We’re going to die.”

Enzo stared at me.

Then, unbelievably, one corner of his mouth lifted.

“Inside, Whitney.”

I didn’t move.

“Why wasn’t I searched?”

His amusement disappeared.

He walked toward me.

Slowly.

He stopped close enough that I could smell expensive cologne and something faintly metallic.

Gun oil.

“Because there are rules concerning you.”

My pulse jumped.

“What rules?”

“You should ask the man who made them.”

“Avery isn’t here.”

Enzo held my gaze.

“No.”

Something about the way he said it bothered me.

“Is he?”

“He is in Florence.”

I folded my arms.

“Then I’ll ask you.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy living.”

He walked inside.

I stared after him.

Sierra appeared beside me.

“What the hell was that?”

“I have no idea.”

“He knew who you were,” Aurora said.

“Apparently.”

Sierra grinned.

“And Avery gave them instructions about you.”

“Security instructions.”

“He specifically told his men not to touch you.”

My gaze shifted toward the doorway.

That bothered me.

Eight years.

Not one word.

Yet Avery apparently had rules about who could put their hands on me.

Possessive bastard.

“He doesn’t own me.”

Sierra’s smile faded.

“I didn’t say he did.”

“No. But apparently someone needs to tell Avery.”

Avery’s house was somehow even more intimidating inside.

Black marble.

Dark wood.

Glass.

Everything immaculate.

Everything expensive.

A massive staircase curved toward the second floor.

Beyond enormous windows, an infinity pool seemed to drop directly into the valley below.

Cassy stared upward.

“You could fit my parents’ entire house inside this foyer.”

Piper turned to Sierra.

“Your family has weird money.”

Sierra shrugged.

“You should see the island.”

Aurora walked toward the windows.

“The view is beautiful.”

It was.

I barely noticed.

Because I’d found a photograph.

Sierra.

Younger.

Avery beside her.

Maybe twenty-three.

His arm rested around her shoulders.

He wasn’t smiling.

Of course he wasn’t.

But he looked different from the boy who’d driven away from Martago Island.

Harder.

More polished.

There was something darker behind his eyes.

I hated how long I stared.

“Your room is upstairs.”

I jumped.

Enzo stood behind me.

“You creep.”

“You were distracted.”

“I wasn’t.”

His gaze moved toward the photograph.

“Of course.”

I walked past him.

“Show me my room.”

“Second floor.”

“Lead the way, Man-bun.”

“Enzo.”

“I’m aware.”

My room was enormous.

King-size bed.

Balcony.

Private bathroom.

Walk-in closet.

Then I saw the flowers.

Purple orchids.

My favorite.

I stopped.

No.

Coincidence.

It had to be.

I approached them.

A small black card rested beside the vase.

No message.

Only one embossed letter.

A.

My stomach tightened.

Enzo remained in the doorway.

“What is this?”

“Flowers.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why ask?”

I turned.

“Did Avery send these?”

“I manage security, not flowers.”

“You’re terrible at lying.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Is he really in Florence?”

“Yes.”

“When is he coming back?”

His eyes sharpened.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Good.”

That irritated me.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you should enjoy Los Angeles.”

“I plan to.”

“Without causing problems.”

I laughed.

“You really don’t know me.”

“Unfortunately, I know enough.”

I stepped closer.

“Are you always this rude?”

“Yes.”

“I like rude.”

“I noticed.”

“Are you single?”

That finally surprised him.

Good.

“Whitney.”

“What?”

“No.”

“No, you’re not single?”

“No, you don’t want to ask me that.”

“I just did.”

He muttered something in Italian.

“English.”

“No.”

I smiled.

“Have dinner with me.”

“No.”

“Drinks?”

“No.”

“Dance?”

“No.”

“Kiss?”

His eyes flashed.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“Why?”

Enzo stepped closer.

For one dangerous second, I thought I’d won.

Then he bent toward my ear.

“Because my boss would put a bullet through my skull.”

My amusement disappeared.

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He straightened.

“You know why.”

“No. I don’t.”

Something almost like pity entered his expression.

“Then perhaps Avery did you one kindness by leaving.”

He walked away.

I stood alone with the orchids.

I hated him for saying it.

I hated Avery more because part of me wondered whether it was true.

Two hours later, I was wearing a black dress short enough to give Dwayne a stroke.

Long sleeves.

High back.

Always.

There were parts of my body I didn’t show.

Not because I was ashamed.

At least that was what I told myself.

The girls were downstairs.

Music drifted up from somewhere below.

We’d decided to have dinner in the city before finding somewhere to dance.

I checked myself in the mirror.

The dress hugged every curve.

My hair fell loose around my shoulders.

Red lipstick.

Black heels.

Armor.

Nobody looking at me would know there were scars beneath the fabric.

Nobody ever did.

A knock sounded.

Then Sierra entered with Aurora behind her.

Sierra stopped.

“Damn.”

Aurora smiled.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Too much?”

“For dinner?” Sierra asked. “Yes.”

“Perfect.”

Aurora laughed.

Then Sierra noticed the orchids.

Her smile faded.

“Where did those come from?”

“You tell me.”

She crossed the room and picked up the card.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Avery.”

My stomach tightened.

“You recognize the card?”

“He puts that monogram on everything.”

Aurora came closer.

I stared at the flowers.

“He knows my favorite flower?”

Sierra suddenly became very interested in the card.

“You tell me.”

“Sierra.”

“I may have mentioned it.”

“When?”

“A while ago.”

“How long?”

“Whitney.”

“How long?”

She sighed.

“Last year.”

My heart betrayed me again.

“Why were you discussing me with Avery last year?”

Aurora looked between us.

Sierra shrugged.

“He asked.”

There it was again.

“He asked what?”

“What you were doing. Whether you were seeing anyone. Whether you still worked for Dwayne.”

I stared at her.

“He asked if I was seeing somebody?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would’ve reacted exactly like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to throw those flowers off the balcony while simultaneously preserving them forever.”

Aurora covered her mouth.

I pointed at her.

“Don’t encourage her.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Sorry.”

I looked back at Sierra.

“I don’t care.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t.”

“Then go out with Enzo.”

I turned.

“I tried.”

Sierra’s mouth dropped open.

Aurora blinked.

“What?” Sierra demanded.

“He rejected me.”

Sierra laughed so hard she nearly dropped the card.

Aurora sat on the edge of the bed laughing.

“It isn’t funny.”

“It absolutely is,” Sierra managed.

“No man has ever rejected me.”

“Welcome to character development.”

I threw a pillow.

She caught it.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I looked down.

One message.

Don’t flirt with my men.

My blood went cold.

I read it twice.

Aurora noticed my face first.

“What happened?”

I showed them.

Sierra’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way.”

Another message appeared.

And change the dress.

My mouth fell open.

The bastard.

I typed immediately.

Who is this?

The answer came before I could lower the phone.

You know.

Eight years.

Eight fucking years.

Not hello.

Not how are you.

Not I’m sorry.

An order.

Of course it was an order.

I typed:

Go to hell.

Three dots appeared.

Vanished.

Appeared again.

Then:

Change. The. Dress. Whitney.

I smiled.

Sierra immediately backed away.

“Oh no.”

Aurora looked between us.

“What?”

“I know that smile,” Sierra said.

I grabbed my purse.

“Let’s go.”

“You’re not changing?”

I looked down at myself.

Then at Avery’s orchids.

Then at his message.

“No.”

My phone buzzed again.

Last warning.

I typed as I walked toward the door.

I’m not eighteen anymore, Avery. You don’t get to tell me what to do.

No answer.

Good.

We made it downstairs.

Cassy and Piper were already waiting.

Enzo stood near the entrance.

He looked up.

Saw me.

His face changed.

“Oh, cazzo.”

I smiled.

“Do you like it?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“You need to change.”

I stopped.

“Did he call you?”

Enzo rubbed his jaw.

“You need to change.”

Piper looked between us.

“Okay, now I definitely missed something.”

“Avery doesn’t like my dress.”

Cassy stared at me.

“Avery isn’t here.”

“Apparently Florence has cell service.”

Aurora laughed.

Enzo didn’t.

“I am asking you nicely,” he said.

“No. You’re repeating somebody else’s order.”

“You’re going upstairs.”

“Are you planning to carry me?”

His eyes closed.

“You are determined to get somebody killed tonight.”

I stepped around him.

My phone rang.

Unknown number.

My pulse hammered.

Everybody went quiet.

I answered.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Then breathing.

I knew it.

Eight years didn’t matter.

My body remembered his silence before my mind could catch up.

“Avery.”

His voice came through the phone.

Deeper than I remembered.

Rougher.

Older.

And so fucking familiar that something inside my chest hurt.

“Go upstairs.”

My entire body reacted to those two words.

I hated that.

“Hello to you too.”

“Change the fucking dress.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

I laughed.

“Still charming.”

“Whitney.”

“Still an asshole.”

Enzo looked like he wanted to evacuate the house.

Cassy’s eyes were huge.

Piper looked delighted.

Aurora watched me carefully.

“Take the girls to dinner,” Avery ordered.

“I am one of the girls.”

“Not tonight.”

Anger flared.

“You disappear for eight years and think you can call me from another country and start giving me orders?”

Silence.

Dangerous silence.

“I didn’t disappear.”

“You left.”

“I had reasons.”

“Congratulations.”

“Change.”

“No.”

His breathing changed.

Then came the words.

“Don’t test me.”

Everything inside me stopped.

The amusement vanished.

The room disappeared.

For half a second, I wasn’t twenty-six.

I was eighteen.

I heard Dwayne.

Felt old pain.

Remembered locked doors and rules and consequences.

My voice went cold.

“Don’t ever say that to me.”

Avery went completely silent.

I stared straight ahead.

“You don’t control me.”

When he answered, the edge had disappeared from his voice.

“No?”

“No.”

Another pause.

Then, quietly:

“Go have dinner, Whitney.”

I frowned.

“That’s it?”

“Enjoy yourself.”

The call ended.

I stared at my phone.

Something about the abrupt change bothered me more than if he’d kept arguing.

Enzo swore under his breath.

I looked at him.

“What?”

He shook his head.

“What?”

“You should have changed.”

“Why?”

Enzo looked toward the long driveway beyond the glass doors.

Then back at me.

“Because when Avery gets quiet…”

He paused.

“…someone usually pays for it.”

My phone remained in my hand.

The screen went dark.

I stared at my reflection in it.

Eight years ago, Avery Cole had left Martago Island because he’d believed staying away from me was the right thing to do.

Now he lived behind armed gates.

Men were afraid to touch me because of rules he’d written.

He knew my favorite flowers.

He knew whether I dated.

He knew what dress I was wearing from another fucking continent.

And somewhere between twenty and twenty-eight, Avery had apparently become the kind of man whose silence frightened armed men.

I should have been afraid.

Instead, beneath the anger and confusion, something far more dangerous stirred.

Curiosity.

Because I suddenly wanted to know exactly what had happened to Avery Cole during those eight years.

And I had the sinking feeling I was about to find out.

This keeps the entire flashback inside Chapter Two, brings Aurora into the group throughout instead of just mentioning her, and ends at the perfect point to start exposing what Avery has become.