Chapter 15: "Is this love?"

PAIGE’S POV

I stood up slowly, my knees shaky—not from the cold, but from the weight of everything unsaid.

Cullen didn’t move. He just sat there, eyes glued to me like he was silently begging me not to go. But I couldn’t stay.

Not when the silence between us screamed louder than anything he could say.

“I’m going to the room,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as it trembled inside. “I need… I just need time.”

He nodded, barely. As if he knew pushing me right now would only drive me further away.

I turned and walked away, each step down the long hallway echoing. The mansion was too quiet. Too big. Too unfamiliar. It made the loneliness settle deeper into my skin.

By the time I reached the room, I shut the door behind me gently, then leaned against it for a moment—trying to breathe.

I stared at the suitcase he packed for me. The warm clothes folded neatly. The scarf he remembered I liked. How could someone be so thoughtful and so frustrating at the same time?

I slipped out of my coat, tossed it aside, and sat on the edge of the bed. The window was slightly fogged, the snow outside glowing under the pale moonlight. It should have been beautiful… peaceful even.

But all I felt was the ache of being pulled into something I didn’t understand.

What are you not telling me, Cullen?

Why do I feel like every second I stay with you… I’m walking closer to something that could break me?

I laid down, curling into myself, and pulled the covers up to my chin. I thought sleep would come quickly, but instead, my mind played every memory of him: the warmth of his hand on mine, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, the storm he tried to hide.

And the fear in his voice when he said, “Think of it as your thankfulness for saving you.”

That wasn’t love.

That was desperation.

And I didn’t know if I could carry it for the both of us.

CULLEN’S POV

I stayed in the chair for hours, watching her.

She was asleep, finally, and that was the only reason I hadn’t paced the room like a madman. Her breathing was calm now, but mine wasn’t.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, running a hand through my hair.

I had no idea how to tell her the truth.

Not just because I couldn’t—but because I didn’t know enough of it myself. 

About Keres. About what kind of man he really is. About what he’s capable of.

All I know is that whenever he’s near Paige, something ancient and cold coils in my chest. 

Like a warning. Like the very air rejects him. Like Death watches through his eyes.

Thanatos gave me a second chance—but not a manual.

No details. Just riddles and consequences.

And now she’s in the middle of it all.

She deserves peace. She deserves to be in control of her life—not stolen from it, piece by piece.

But I’m here. In her orbit. And I don’t know if I’m her shield—or the storm that will finally break her.

I glance at her again.

She stirs, a small frown forming as if even in sleep, something haunts her.

Keres.

He’s out there.

Somewhere.

Watching. Waiting. I can feel it in my bones.

I just don’t know why.

And I don’t know how much time we have left.

So I stay.

Silent.

Guarded.

Not ready to tell her the truth.

Because once I do… 

Everything changes.

PAIGE’S POV

The fire’s low now, just gentle embers casting golden light across the stone walls. I stirred beneath the thick blanket, my body warm but my chest still tight from everything earlier. The silence in this mansion felt heavier than the snow outside.

Cullen was sitting by the window, still as stone. He hadn’t changed clothes, hadn’t moved for what felt like hours. Just watching the snow fall. Watching… me.

I slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from my eyes. “Cullen?” My voice came out softer than I intended.

He turned, eyes meeting mine. Tired. Guarded.

“You didn’t sleep,” I said.

“I wasn’t tired,” he replied, voice low.

That was a lie, I think. He looked exhausted. But I didn’t press him.

A strange stillness filled the space between us. Everything about him—his posture, his expression—made me feel like there were a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, not even sure why. For the cold shoulder. For making things harder. For not understanding anything at all.

He shook his head gently. “You don’t need to apologize, Paige.”

I hesitated. “I just… I don’t understand what’s happening. One minute, I’m in the middle of a shoot, and the next—I’m in Switzerland?”

His jaw shifted like he was holding something back. “I just needed to take you away for a while.”

“Why?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Is someone after me? Am I in trouble?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room and sat at the edge of the armchair, not quite reaching for me, but not pulling away either.

“You’re not in trouble,” he said finally. “I just couldn’t leave you there.”

“Why?” I asked again. “Why not just explain things before dragging me across the world?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he handed me a mug of warm tea that had been resting near the fire. I took it, feeling its heat soak into my palms.

The silence settled again.

There’s something he’s not telling me. I can feel it in my gut.

But for now, I just sipped the tea and looked out the window at the snow-covered hills of Switzerland. Beautiful. Peaceful. And yet… I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t just here for rest.

I was here because something wasn’t right. And I wasn’t sure if Cullen was trying to protect me… or hide something from me.

CULLEN’S POV

    I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep on the sofa. My neck ached as I stirred awake, the morning light already spilling across the floor. 8 a.m. I blinked hard and looked at the bed. Empty. Paige was gone.

Rubbing the sleep from my face, I stood and headed downstairs. Laughter floated up to me—two women, one voice unmistakably hers. The other belonged to someone older.

At the bottom of the stairs, I saw them. Paige sat at the kitchen table, smiling—genuinely smiling—at a woman who looked to be in her fifties. The woman noticed me first and offered a warm, motherly smile. Paige didn’t even glance my way.

“Good morning, Sir. Breakfast is ready, Sir Cullen,” the older woman greeted as she approached.

“I’m Nona. I take care of the house,” she added kindly.

I gave her a polite nod and took a quiet seat at the table. Paige sat directly across from me—close, yet miles away.

“How about you, Madam?” Paige said gently, glancing at Nona.

“Come and join us.”

Nona chuckled and shook her head. “No, dear. I’ll wait for Roberto. He had some errands this morning.”

Roberto. Must be the driver from yesterday.

Paige gave Nona a warm, glowing smile—the kind I used to see. But not once did her eyes meet mine. Not even a “Good morning.”

After a while, Nona excused herself, leaving just the two of us and the quiet.

Then Paige spoke.

“I really need a phone right now. I think you still have mine.”

Her tone wasn’t cold. It was wounded.

“We’ll buy a new one,” I said, unable to hide the stiffness in my voice.

“I just… I need to talk to my siblings. They must be worried.” Her eyes dropped, voice barely above a whisper.

“You will. You can borrow mine for now,” I said, more quickly than I meant to.

She nodded, but the space between us remained.

The hours dragged. She kept herself near Nona, chatting softly, laughing lightly—everything she refused to share with me.

Later, I handed her my phone without a word.

From a distance, I listened as she spoke to her family, doing her best to sound cheerful. Her voice cracked sometimes. I heard her say something about money—how they needed help, how things were getting tight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send something right away,” she assured them, though her voice trembled near the end.

She ended the call and just stood there, staring out the window. Her shoulders were still, but her face… pale and streaked with quiet tears. Was she trying to hide them?

I stepped behind her—close enough for her to feel it.

She flinched slightly.

“Send them one thousand dollars a month,” I whispered, my voice low and steady.

She turned, startled, eyes wide and glistening. We were face to face now, breath to breath.

“Think of it as payback. For dragging you into this.”

“But…” Her voice caught in her throat. So did mine.

My chest was pounding. My body moved before I could stop it. My fingers reached for her cheek, brushing away the tears like they were my own.

“I hate it when you cry,” I murmured, eyes fixed on hers.

For a second, I felt alive. Really alive. Like the part of me that had died long ago finally remembered how to feel.

I leaned in, the air thick between us. I was just about to pull her into my arms when—

Footsteps. Distant but sharp. Someone was coming.

And just like that, the moment shattered.

PAIGE’S POV

I didn’t expect him to come that close.

One moment I was trying to hold myself together—staring out the window, swallowing the lump in my throat, pretending the tears on my cheeks didn’t exist—and the next, I could feel him behind me. Close. His presence wrapped around me like a storm cloud, quiet but full of something I couldn’t name.

His voice broke through the silence, low and deep, brushing against my skin like a secret.

“Send them one thousand dollars a month.”

I turned slowly, unsure if I heard him right. And when I looked up, he was already watching me—eyes soft in a way I hadn’t seen before. Something in them unraveled me. Like he saw right through my walls, straight to the ache I was trying so hard to bury.

“Think of it as payback… for dragging you into this.”

His words made something twist inside my chest. I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t owe me anything. But when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was a broken, “But…”

And then his hand moved.

It was careful, like he was afraid I might break. His fingers brushed a tear from my cheek with more tenderness than I expected from someone like him—someone who had been so cold, so distant. That simple touch shattered something in me.

“I hate it when you cry,” he said.

I blinked, trying to steady my breath, but the heat between us made it impossible. The air felt charged, like the calm before a downpour. His hand lingered against my skin, and suddenly, the rest of the world faded. It was just him… and me… and the space between us that kept getting smaller.

My heart was thudding in my chest, wild and unsure. I should have moved. I should have looked away.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t want to.

He leaned in, slowly, as if waiting for permission he hadn’t asked for. And for a moment—just a fleeting, fragile moment—I thought he might kiss me. I thought I might let him.

But then…

Footsteps.

The spell broke.

His hand dropped from my face, and the space between us rushed back like a wave. I took a step back instinctively, unsure if I was breathing too loud or not at all.

I turned away, pretending to fix my sleeve, pretending my heart wasn’t crashing against my ribs like a warning bell. I didn’t know what just happened—what almost happened.

But it scared me.

Because part of me… wanted it.

And that part?

Was growing louder.