Chapter 3

After Eric stormed out to meet his grandfather, I collapsed into the leather chair behind his desk, my legs finally giving out. I spent ten minutes in the en-suite bathroom, splashing freezing water on my face and staring at my reflection. I looked like a ghost of the girl I used to be. Five years ago, I was the university student who thought love could bridge the gap between a scholarship girl and a Kingstone. Boy I was wrong.

I stepped back out into the gala, trying to blend into the shadows. I needed a drink to steady my nerves. I grabbed a glass of dark red wine from a passing tray and downed half of it, the tart liquid burning my throat. I scanned the room, looking for a corner to hide in, but Eric’s presence was everywhere. Even when he was across the ballroom, I could feel the weight of his gaze. It was the same way he used to look at me during our secret dates—like I was the only person in the world, and like he was never going to let me go.

“Autumn! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Chloe appeared, draped on the arm of a tall, lanky man whose suit looked like it cost more than my apartment.

“This is my fiancé, Alexander Hawthorne,” Chloe said, her voice bright with a happiness I envied. “And Alex, this is Autumn, my best friend from uni. I told you she’d make it!”

Alexander didn't just shake my hand.

He took it, his eyes raking over my figure with a clinical, disgusting interest that made my skin crawl. He leaned down and kissed the back of my hand, his thumb rubbing the skin in a way that felt like a violation.

“A pleasure, Miss Martins. Chloe has told me... so much about you.” His voice was oily, lacking any of the genuine warmth Chloe deserved.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Hawthorne,” I said, yanking my hand back. I didn't care if I was being rude. I had spent five years protecting myself and Fin; I didn't have time for the wandering hands of a bored aristocrat.

I knew of the Hawthornes. Five years ago, they were the Kingstones' main rivals. Seeing Chloe tied to him felt wrong. It felt like another "merger" disguised as a marriage, the very thing that had made my relationship with Eric so "doomed" to begin with. Our social statuses hadn't just been "different"—they were worlds apart. I was the girl from nowhere, and he was the man who was supposed to marry a Valentine.

I shuddered at the thought of Fin’s life being treated like a gamble by people like this. If Eric found out... if he realized that the boy wasn't just a "nephew" but the son we had created during those stolen months of our affair... he would never let us go. He would bring Fin into this den of vipers.

As the evening wound down, the crowd began to thin. This was my chance to escape. I just had to find Chloe, say my goodbyes, and vanish back to the hotel where Fin was waiting. I found her near the grand staircase, but my heart sank when I saw who was standing beside her. Eric.

He had changed out of his blazer, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were as sharp as ever.

“Hey, Loe. It’s getting late,” I said, forcing a smile that felt brittle. “I should head back. My hotel isn't exactly close.”

“What? No!” Chloe pouted, grabbing my arm. “Stay here! The estate is huge, and I’ve already had the guest wing prepared. I won't hear of you staying in some dusty hotel when your best friend is getting married.”

“I can't, Chloe. It would be... inappropriate. I don't want to be a bother to your family.” I looked at Eric, begging him with my eyes to tell her to let me go.

But Eric stepped forward, the shadows of the foyer playing across the hard planes of his face. “It’s not a bother at all, Autumn. In fact, I insist. The Kingstone family is responsible for the guests we invite. It would be quite ‘inappropriate’ of us to let you wander the streets of London so late at night.”

He used the word inappropriate like a weapon, throwing my own excuse back at me. He was mocking me. He knew I was terrified of being under the same roof as him.

“Please, Tummy?” Chloe begged, her eyes wide. “I want to go over the morning schedule with you. I need my maid of honor.”

I was trapped. If I refused now, it would only make Eric more suspicious. He would wonder why I was so desperate to get back to a hotel room. He would follow me. And if he followed me, he would find Fin.

“Fine,” I whispered, defeated. “If it’s truly not a problem.”

Chloe squealed and hugged me, but over her shoulder, I felt Eric move. He stepped closer, the scent of him—that familiar, intoxicating mix of power and the past—filling my senses. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear so Chloe couldn't hear.

“Smart choice, little lamb,” he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous vibration that sent a traitorous thrill through my body. “You can’t escape the truth in this house. Not when every room reminds you of what you took from me when you ran.”

He pulled back, a dark, victorious glint in his eyes. He wasn't just a man I’d had a fling with. He was the man I had loved with every fiber of my being, the man I had shared my bed and my dreams with before the weight of his world crushed us.

“Chloe, show her to the Blue Suite,” Eric said, his tone returning to that of the cool, detached billionaire. “I have some final business to attend to in my study.”

As Chloe led me away, I looked back once. Eric was standing in the center of the foyer, watching me go. He looked like a king watching a prisoner being led to her cell. I realized then that my return wasn't just a confrontation with the truth—it was a second chance for Eric to claim what he believed was his. And this time, he wouldn't let me run.

I walked up the stairs, my heart a restless whisper. I was back in the Kingston world, back in Eric’s orbit.

And tonight, I would be sleeping only a few doors down from the man who still held the pieces of my shattered heart.