LOGINJust like that, he moved me into his father’s estate. And me? To spend as little time there as possible—to keep my brain too occupied to think, too exhausted to spiral, too dead on my feet to lie awake inside that godforsaken room listening to my own thoughts rot—I started scheduling myself for back-to-back shifts. Twenty-four fucking seven. At this point, I practically live at the hospital. My body’s starting to give out a little. There’s only so much abuse it can take before it starts protesting. My shoulders ache constantly, my feet feel permanently numb, and some days I’m so tired I genuinely forget what day it is halfway through surgery prep. But honestly? For my mind, it’s perfect. For my career, too. Exactly what it should be. And weirdly enough, with the way things are now… it’s not even that terrible. The rare times I go back to the estate—usually once every couple of days just to sleep—I barely run into anyone. And if I do, nobody bothers me. I keep to myself. They ke
It’s safe to say, Shaun is not the kind of man who handles vulnerability well. Especially not with the person who dragged it out of him. Nothing about his behavior has technically changed. He’s still the same teasing, unreadable asshole he always is. Still calm. Still controlled. Still acting like that night at dinner never happened. But I can feel it anyway. He’s keeping his distance from me. Four days have passed, and I still haven’t managed to say anything dramatic enough to trigger the kind of reaction Ryan promised. Nothing. Not my conversations with Jenny. Not random comments at the hospital. Not even me deliberately pushing certain topics louder than necessary. At this point, I’m starting to think Ryan might just be a fucking liar. Or worse—that the whole thing really was some pathetic loyalty test from Shaun all along. But I just can’t help it. I’ll try one last thing. So the moment I arrive at the hospital today, the very first place I go is the maternity ward.
“Interesting topic. And I do love…” His mouth curves. “Me. So sure.” Arrogant asshole. “Great.” I smile sweetly at him. “So here’s how this works. I ask questions, you answer them.” He picks up his wine glass—white. Very on brand for him—and takes an unhurried sip. “I’ll meet you halfway. You ask.” Another sip. “And I decide which ones deserve answers.” I shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’ll take whatever I can get.” He sets the glass down and reaches for his silverware. “You’ve got until dinner’s over.” A challenge. I take another slow drink myself, refusing to let the little time limit rush me the way he clearly intended. “What was your dream when you were a kid?” He clearly wasn’t expecting that question. A short scoff leaves him, almost amused. “Seriously?” “It’s simple enough.” I set my wine glass down and lean back comfortably in my chair. “What did you want for yourself? When you pictured your future back then… was this it?” I gesture vaguely around us. “This scene
Every light downstairs is on. Voices spill from the living room. Several voices. I slow instinctively as I move toward the sound. “The Russians gaining too much ground,” a man says. I don’t recognize the voice. “If you wait any longer, you’ll lose the advantage. It’s time to change tactics.” “What, to the exact thing you wanted from the start?” another voice replies dryly. Ian. “You were the one pushing to let them wipe out the local gangs first.” “Yeah, and now that they’ve already wiped everybody else out, they need to be handled too.” The unfamiliar man’s tone sharpens. “If this keeps going, they’ll become impossible to control.” What the hell are they even talking about? “I told you from the beginning,” the man continues, “I’d keep backing you as long as you kept order in the city.” I move a little closer, finally coming fully into view of the room. A man in a dark overcoat and tailored suit sits in one of the armchairs. Ian and Caleb are off to one side together. And
By the time I make it back outside, Shaun’s gone. Julian never comes back either. The entire rest of the day, a sick sense of unease clings to me like a second skin. It follows me through every conversation, every forced smile, every second that crawls by until I finally end up back in that same fucking bedroom. The same room where I gave in to him. I lie there staring into the darkness, but my mind refuses to shut up. Is he really using me to track down the people who killed Kate? A woman who’s already dead. Does he even care what happens to me in the process? Or would part of him actually enjoy watching me get hurt if it meant finally making Julian pay? A cold knot twists tighter and tighter inside my chest. How the hell am I supposed to protect myself from something like this? How do you outrun danger when you can’t even see it coming? My thoughts spiral so violently my head actually starts aching from it. But underneath all the fear, another realization keeps pressing ha
“What the fuck was that?” he demands, anger vibrating beneath every word. I blink at him in disbelief. Seriously? I’m the one getting interrogated right now? “Which part exactly?” I shoot back coldly. “There’s kinda a lot of material to choose from these days.” “Tell me you didn’t fall for that bastard after everything he’s done to you.” His voice comes out rough, furious. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with him. Tell me all that shit out there was just you talking out of your ass.” A sharp laugh almost leaves me. “You don’t get to demand explanations from me.” I rip my arms out of his grip. “Not when you knocked Millie up. And definitely not while you’re still planning to marry her.” “I’m doing this because of you.” His fist slams against the wall hard enough to make me flinch. “I was ready to burn everything down, okay? But the second they realized exactly what my weakness was, I got warned that if I didn’t go through with marrying her, I’d be cut out of the family. And that wo







