Chapter 23

The morning air smelled of jet fuel and crisp dew. The sky was pale blue, brushed with streaks of gold as the sun climbed higher. I stood at the edge of the tarmac, my hand looped through Scott’s arm, as the white jet waited for him with its engines humming softly.

His driver had already unloaded his bags. Two men in black uniforms wheeled them toward the plane, their movements almost like it was practiced. Everything about Scott’s life was efficient and unstoppable. Even I sometimes I thought bitterly, though I quickly shoved that thought away.

I turned to him, clutching his hand a little tighter. “Three weeks feels too long,” I said softly.

Scott’s gaze softened, lines easing at the corner of his eyes. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s business, love. You know I’d rather stay here with you.”

“I know,” I murmured, leaning into the warmth of his touch. His cologne lingered in the air. It was woodsy and familiar.

He bent down, pressing his forehead against mine. It was like the world shrank to just us. The hum of the jet, the faint rustle of his jacket, the thud of my heart in my chest.

“I’ll call every night,” he whispered.

“You promise?”

His lips curved. “When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

I didn’t answer because the truth was messy. He hadn’t, not yet. But the thought of him oceans away, the space in the bed beside me empty, felt unbearable in a way I didn’t want to admit out loud.

I hugged him tightly, clinging to him as though I could keep him here just by refusing to let go. He chuckled softly into my hair but returned the embrace just as firmly, his large hand splayed across my back.

When I finally pulled away, he cupped my cheek and kissed me. Slow, unhurried, deliberately. The kind of kiss that was both a promise and a possession. My knees weakened, and I gripped his arm for balance.

“Be safe,” I whispered against his lips.

“I will,” he murmured, kissing me once more before stepping back.

The moment he moved away, the emptiness started. I folded my arms, hugging myself as I watched him ascend the stairs into the jet. Just before he disappeared inside, he glanced back and lifted a hand in a wave. I forced a smile, lifting mine in return, though the ache in my chest deepened.

The door closed. The engines roared louder. Within minutes, the jet rolled forward, gathering speed before lifting into the sky, shrinking against the pale horizon until it was just a speck.

And then, nothing. Just silence.

The driver approached with the car door open. “Ma’am?”

I nodded, slipping inside. The seat was cool beneath my palms. As the car pulled away from the hangar, I pressed my forehead against the window, staring blankly at the passing scenery.

Three weeks.

It was only three weeks. I told myself I could handle it, that it wasn’t forever, but the thought of returning to the house without him, of wandering those cavernous halls alone, made my stomach twist. Worse, Ace was still there.

Ace, with his silence treatment, with his bitter laugh, with the way his presence crawled under my skin, no matter how hard I tried to ignore him.

My mind kept circling back to his last words before he stormed off yesterday. “You’ll come begging for me. But just know this... my father will never love you.”

It had lodged itself in me like a thorn. I hadn’t dared to ask him what he meant. But the question festered, growing sharper with each passing day.

The car finally pulled into the long driveway of the estate. My eyes widened slightly when I spotted Ace.

He was standing by his car. It was a black beast that gleamed under the morning sun. He wore a shirt jacket with its sleeves rolled halfway up, and a dark t-shirt underneath. His veins flexed on his forearm as he dangled his keys loosely in one hand. His other hand shoved into his pocket, casual but restless. He looked ready to leave, and for a second, I considered letting him.

But the thorn twisted again.

Before I could stop myself, I called out, “Ace!”

He froze, his shoulders stiffening before he slowly turned his head. His expression was unreadable, a mask he wore too well these days.

I pushed the door open and stepped out, smoothing down my dress. I walked toward him, a smile tugging at my lips. “Hey,” I said lightly, as though the last few hours of silence hadn’t existed. “How are you doing?”

His eyes flicked over me, then away just as quickly. “Fine.” The word was clipped, dismissive.

I stopped a few feet from him, folding my arms. “Can I ask you something?”

Ace twirled the keys around his finger lazily, not looking at me. “Do I have a choice?”

My jaw tightened, but I pressed on. “The other day, you said Scott would never love me. What did you mean by that?”

For the first time, he looked directly at me. His lips curved into a slow, mocking smile before he let out a short laugh. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “It’s been stuck in my head.”

He shook his head, amused. “Then maybe that means it worked. Maybe I just said it to piss you off.”

“That’s not an answer,” I shot back.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with something sharp. “Why do you care so much if he loves you? Hm?”

The question caught me off guard. My lips parted, but no words came at first. Why did I care? I should’ve brushed it off, but the truth burned inside me, unbidden.

“Because,” I said finally, voice softer than I intended, “being close to him… sharing a bed with him every night… maybe it’s made me feel something for him.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then Ace barked out a laugh. A cruel, disbelieving, echoing across the driveway. “Or maybe,” he said, stepping closer, his grin cutting, “it’s just your daddy issues talking.”

I froze. My stomach dropped, heat rushing to my face. “What?”

He smirked, unbothered. “Maybe you’re only clinging to him because you don’t have a dad. Maybe it’s easier to pretend he’s filling that gap.”

My chest tightened, anger and hurt colliding in a rush. My nails dug into my palms. “How dare you—”

But he just shrugged, spinning his keys again, his tone light, almost mocking.

Something inside me snapped. The words spilled before I could stop them. “Well, your mum’s not alive either.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

His entire body stilled. The smirk vanished. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening in a way that made me instantly regret every syllable.

“Ace—” I breathed, stepping forward quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

But he cut me off, slipping into the driver’s seat without a word. He slammed the door shut, the engine roaring to life.

I stood frozen as the car peeled out of the driveway, leaving only the echo of tires on asphalt and the heavy weight of my mistake pressing down on me.