Chapter 2 ~ Glass & Heat

{Harlow’s POV}

Adrian didn’t fuck me last night so those hurrays were wasted. But keep them.

Sooner or later, I’ll be needing them.

Arian had had a switch of mood after he had received a phone call and so he had thankfully dismissed me, and then throughout today, he had been away from the estate, giving me more time to breathe and my heart time to settle. 

Now, it was nighttime but I wasn’t catching any sleep. I still felt tense due to all that had happened and all that was about to happen in this house. 

Meanwhile, I had been told that the greenhouse was the only place in the Estate that didn’t feel like a pressure cooker. Calista, one of the maids who has been kind to me since my arrival, had left me a note earlier in the pantry, tucked behind a sugar jar like contraband.

“The Greenhouse is peaceful and beautiful to hang. Especially at night.” The note had read so now, I left my room and went there. 

The glass ceiling of the Greenhouse glowed faintly with moonlight and warm air wrapped around me as I approached, thick with the scent of earth and living things. Upon my entrance, I saw vines draped from metal beams, heavy and drowsy, and for a moment, I let myself observe the scene. 

Then I saw him.

Kael.

He sat on the stone rim of an fountain, his elbows on his knees with his head lowered as if he’d been thinking troubling thoughts— or trying not to.

When he heard the door close behind me, he lifted his gaze and his expression tightened instantly; Irritation, recognition. I couldn’t tell. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said instantly.

I stepped fully inside. “Is the greenhouse only reserved for people who brood?”

His jaw flexed. “It’s late.”

“It’s midnight,” I said lightly. “Which is perfect for people who don’t sleep.”

He stood up slowly now, like he hadn’t decided whether to leave… or confront me.

“You don’t belong in this place,” he frowned at me in his confrontation. “You don’t understand what it is.”

He meant: You don’t understand my father.

And he was right as I didn’t understand anything here. Still…

“If you have a problem with Adrien,” I said, “say it to him.”

Kael laughed now, a short, humorless sound. “You think he listens to anyone?” His frown returned. “He picks women the way he picks décor.”

His words stung in places I pretended I didn’t have but I didn’t show it. 

“You’re projecting,” I said calmly. “But your resentment isn’t my responsibility.”

With that, he stepped toward me, closing the space in sharp increments. He looked offended. 

“You think your age makes you wise!” He voiced.

“You think your anger makes you right,” I returned and something played in his eyes— almost hidden. Surprise, maybe. Or annoyance that I wasn’t backing down.

Maybe both.

“Careful,” he murmured. “This house eats people who challenge it.”

“I’m not afraid of the house.”

“Then be afraid of the people in it.” He took some more aggrieved steps forward and the air shifted. 

We were too close now.

Close enough that I could see the faint scar tracing his jawline. Close enough that I felt the warmth coming off him in low, steady waves.

His gaze dropped now, not to my eyes but to my mouth… and then to my chest, the breasts hanging off. 

With this, I felt something stutter inside me as I began to bleed out sweat. 

He shouldn’t be looking at me this way… and I shouldn’t be feeling this weak and hesitant. 

Something between us bent now, dangerous and uninvited.

His hand lifted slightly, stopping just near the strap of my dress, close enough to pull it to the side and make my breast bare.

But then it hovered and my breath hitched. 

And so did his too.

The air between us was steaming now and I didn’t know which I was more consumed by; confusion or curiosity.

Either way, Kael didn’t help. He leaned in now, not enough to cut through boundaries… but just enough to consider shifting them. 

His chest rose, slow but intense and his breath brushed the side of my cheek as he breathed. I felt the pull now— magnetic, reckless.

Absurd.

And with this realization, I grew back the faintest hint of consciousness. 

“You.. sh-should move away…” I murmured but my voice barely worked.

His eyes flicked to mine, dark; intense.

“Then stop looking at me like that…”

I stared at his lips while he spoke and I swallowed. “I’m not.”

“Yes,” he said softly, “you are.”

Before I could answer, footsteps echoed from the side, sharp and intentional. And Kael and I broke apart so fast the greenhouse seemed to shake, and then a figure appeared in the doorway.

Elias.

Sudden and tangible. 

His presence pulled the temperature down a full degree and the full percentage of our attention. I panicked. 

“Well,” he murmured. “What an interesting scene.”

Kael stiffened beside me. “Leave.” He ordered but Elias stepped inside anyway, his smile slicing rather than softening.

“You dropped something, miss,” he said.

“I didn’t—” I began but he lifted his hand.

A red ribbon lay in his palm.

My ribbon, the one from my vanity drawer and the one no one should have touched. Chills crawled up my spine.

“I found it near the east stairwell,” he continued. “Thought it looked… personal.” He stared between Kael and I, and then he extended it toward me slowly.

Too slowly. 

But then Kael moved instantly, stepping between us. “Don’t give her anything.” He snarled. 

Elias’s lips curved. “Are you her guardian now?”

I didn’t want such drama, not after what had just taken place, so I quietly reached past Kael and took the ribbon from Elias. The silk was cold, colder than I expected.

“Thank you,” I said. “I must have dropped it.”

“I’m sure,” Elias replied. “But do be careful, Mrs. Vale. Not all things can be recovered after being dropped.” He said and I grew a weirded-out frown. 

What?

He glanced at Kael now, long enough to make something silent and ugly pass between them. Then he walked out.

Just like that, as if he hadn’t interrupted something that could have changed everything.

The greenhouse felt smaller with his exit, denser and wired with tension that had nowhere to go.

Kael turned to me, anger simmering under his skin.

“You shouldn’t have taken that from him.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“He was in your room,” Kael said. “He had to be.”

A chill broke across my back.

“You don’t know that,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

I swallowed. “What is he?”

“Someone who shouldn’t be trusted.”

His voice held something I couldn’t read; fear… or experience.

“You don’t get to decide who I talk to,” I rebutted quietly.

He gave a bitter laugh. “Someone needs to. You walked into this house fucking blind.”

“And you think you see everything?”

“I see enough!” He stated and the cloud of argument burned between us again, but it was different now— hotter, sharper, and clouding the echo of what almost happened.

We hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Nonetheless, I stepped past him in my attempt to walk away. 

“Harlow.” His voice stopped me and I turned to see his expression. 

It was tangled; anger, regret, some other thing I couldn’t immediately read. 

“Whatever that was,” he started, his jaw tight. “It can’t and won’t happen again.”

I frowned with resolve. “Good!” I said and continued away, but then as I went, I felt an oddly conflicting sensation in my chest.

I didn’t know what it was but I refused to address or acknowledge it.

It meant nothing.