ROB

I got off the phone with Leonardo, my best friend, business partner and sank into a chair, exhaling deeply. I had come to Italy from Spain to handle some urgent business, and finally, it was done. Like the understanding man he was, Leo had given me a few days off, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

And yet, even with time to breathe, she still found a way into my mind. I sighed, resigned. There was no winning when it came to her. Not that I’d ever admit defeat. I was strong. She was strong. I didn’t need to spend my time off worrying about her reckless ass.

And yet…

My fingers moved before I could stop them, checking for any news on her. The moment I realized what I was doing, I dropped the phone as if it burned me. Disgusted, not with the device, but with myself.

I grabbed the joint from the table and lit it up, inhaling deeply, waiting for the familiar release. But it wasn’t enough.

Before I could overthink it, I picked up my phone again and dialed Jenny’s number, relieved when she answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jenny. Long time, no talk,” I said, playing along with social niceties. I didn’t actually care. And I knew she didn’t either.

A small pause. Then….

“Well, you never call. And I’m not Jenny. This is Vanessa.”

Fuck.

An organized man like me never made mistakes like this. And with her of all people. My favorite ex, the one who also happened to be on antipsychotics.

“Shit, sorry about that, Vanessa,” I said, clearing my throat. “And you know why I don’t call often. We both agreed it was for the best. You know how things ended.”

She let out a soft, amused hum. “Of course. It was catastrophic.” A beat. “Though I wouldn’t mind a few more nights of catastrophe. You always were hard to resist.”

Ah. How could I say no to that?

“Are you even in the country?” I asked, playing along.

“I am, but not for long.”

She was baiting me, and I took it without hesitation.

“Come over. Or should I come to you?”

“Where are you?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

“Topside.”

A small pause. Then, she laughed. “Are you stalking me?”

“Why would I?”

“Because I’m at Topside too.”

Fucking hell.

She was smiling. I could hear it in her voice.

“Text me your suite number before I forget,” she purred before hanging up.

I stared at my phone, a smirk curling on my lips. My plan had worked, just not in the way I expected. I wanted a distraction, something to dull the ache in my chest.

But then…

My phone buzzed with a notification. A photo from one of our men in New York.

I froze. My smirk disappeared.

Shit.

Without thinking, I fired off a quick text to Vanessa, rescheduling. She was disappointed, but I promised to make it up to her tenfold. Then, I rushed to the private jet.

She was supposed to be my escape tonight. My solace.

Instead, here I was running back to her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I arrived in New York as fast as I could, heart pounding in a way I hated. I had done everything in my power to stay away from this place. From her.

And yet, here I was.

The car pulled up in front of her place, and I wasted no time jumping out, barely acknowledging the security as I stormed up to her door. My hand slammed against the doorbell, impatience twisting in my gut.

What the hell was taking her so long?

The door finally swung open, and relief crashed into me. Not the usual frustration. Not the usual irritation. Relief.

Then….

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she snapped.

Ah. There it was. The anger.