登入NATHANIELTen minutes later, we pull up to the gleaming gold-and-glass entrance of The Pendulum.Lucy bids Betty a fierce goodbye and forces her to promise to call her the absolute second she finishes talking to Rhys. As for me, she completely ignores my existence, slipping out of the car without a single backward glance.The moment the door shuts and the car pulls away, the air inside the cabin turns to lead.Betty turns her face entirely toward the tinted window, and from the corner of my eye, I can see the unshed tears glistening on her lower lashes, but I know her pride will never let a single drop fall while I am sitting next to her.The silence is suffocating. I stare at the side of her face, desperate to clear the heavy air between us."Betty," I start, my voice low. "About the elevator... I shouldn't have forced that kiss."She lets out a dry, incredulous scoff, not even bothering to turn her head away from the glass."Do you seriously want to talk to me about that right now,
NATHANIELI press my lips together, violently folding my lower lip between my teeth to stop myself from cursing.I already had this exact conversation with Rhys. I cannot believe I am being forced to endure it again. My plan was seamless: get her safely back to the estate, drag her to the guest wing, and force Rhys to explain his own catastrophic mess. That way, I would be spared the absolute torture of answering rapid-fire questions I don’t want to answer.But clearly, the universe is a cruel mistress."Sit down," I mutter to them both. Neither of them moves an inch.Fine. I stand perfectly still in the center of the cramped, suffocating room, and I lay it all out. Because by now, there is no doubt that Betty has told Lucy every detail of the last few days leading up to the elevator. So, I strip away the remaining secrets.I tell them exactly what happened inside Fausto’s restaurant in New York. I explain Rhys’s dark, tangled connections with the underground network. I explain what t
NATHANIELThe engine roars as we tear down the highway, but the only sound I can actually hear is the violent, erratic thudding of my own heart.I stare down at my phone. I have dialed her number three times. She hasn’t picked up once.My thumbs fly across the screen, firing off a frantic text, and I stare at the screen, holding my breath.A moment later, three small gray bubbles pop up on the screen. She is typing. The knot in my chest loosens for exactly one second before the bubbles completely vanish.Nothing. No message. And pure, blinding panic spikes straight into my bloodstream."Faster," I bark at the driver, the command vibrating with lethal urgency.The security guard in the passenger seat—one of the retired Marines Anders swore was the best on payroll—turns around, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, we are already doing ninety. If we go any faster, we'll draw police attention, and you need to calm down…"I don't speak. I don't yell. I just lift my eyes and lock
NATHANIELI drag a harsh, ragged breath into my lungs before crossing the threshold into Rhys’s room.This is a catastrophic idea.Rhys is sitting on the edge of the mattress, his bare feet resting on the hardwood floor. The nurse is gently manipulating his injured shoulder, and I watch his jaw lock tight. I watch the muscles in his neck strain.He is doing everything in his power not to show the physical agony tearing through his body. And it's working. I clear my throat, and they both snap their heads toward the doorway. The nurse immediately releases Rhys’s arm, letting it rest gently at his side, and takes a respectful step back."Give us a minute," I order her, my voice clipped and leaving absolutely no room for debate.She nods once and slips out into the hallway, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind her, leaving us alone.Rhys lets out a strained breath and attempts to lift his legs back onto the mattress. I stand completely still near the foot of the bed, and I don't lift a
BETTYThe white cab jerks to a sudden halt outside Lucy’s apartment building.My hands are shaking so badly that I drop the twenty-dollar bill twice before finally shoving it through the plastic partition.I don't even wait for the driver to hand me my change. I just grab my heavy duffel bag, push the door open, and practically fall out onto the sidewalk.The entire frantic ride here, I tried desperately to scrub my mind blank. I tried to focus on the blur of the city, the traffic lights, the exhaust fumes, anything but the suffocating confines of that elevator. But it was useless.I can still feel him. I can still feel the phantom heat of his mouth crushing against mine. I can still feel the bruising, territorial pressure of his hands pinning my shoulders to the wall.Nathaniel Blackwell kissed me.The reality loops in my skull like a broken record, and I feel like I must be hallucinating. The man has loathed my very existence for years. But his mouth was on mine. Hungry. Desperate.
NATHANIELIt takes me exactly ten minutes to lock the monster back inside its cage.I pace the length of the small lobby, my chest heaving, my breathing ragged, before I press my fingertips against my jaw, right where the sharp, stinging heat of her palm still burns into my skin.And I smile. Again.It is a ridiculous, entirely unhinged smile. Like a starving man who has just been handed a single crumb of bread.I have to force it down. I cannot step out of this building looking like this. I cannot risk my security detail seeing my impenetrable mask cracked wide open. And more importantly, I cannot let Betty see it.She is definitely furious. And if she sees me slide into the back of that SUV wearing a smug, victorious smirk, it will only pour gasoline on the fire.It will give her a reason to be defiant, and most likely motivate her to do something stupid.I stop pacing, close my eyes, drag a brutal, steadying breath into my lungs, and force my expression to freeze over, as I adjust
NATHANIEL.Something has shifted in the house since she left.Not enough to disrupt the routine, but just enough to make everything feel slightly out of place, like a painting hung a fraction too low on the wall.Harriette still spends her mornings in the garden, walking the paths with her cane, in
BETTYSomeone is calling my name from the bar while two servers argue over tray placement near the entrance.The lighting technician is asking if we’re committing to warm gold or neutral white, and the DJ wants confirmation on whether the sound check can start early.All of it is colliding at once
NATHANIEL.It has been almost three weeks since Betty and I made a deal, and in that time, she has become a ghost inside her own house.She’s been doing everything possible to avoid crossing paths with me. Moving through the estate with the kind of precision that suggests planning rather than coinc
NATHANIELThe divorce papers are clenched in my hand, my grip tight enough that the edges bite into my skin.She should be packing by now, or at least doing something with her newfound freedom.Instead, the bed is neatly made, smoothed down to perfection, the pillows aligned, her clothes still hang







