~HUNTER’S POV-


    I shouldn’t have danced with her.


    That’s what I tell myself as I watch Celine from across the room.


    She’s gathering the abandoned sses with that same soft focus she gives to every task.


    Like she’s anywhere but here. Like she wants to melt into the wallpaper and disappear. But she can’t. Not from me. I see her.


    And it’s starting to piss me off how much I do. How much I can’t stop. I swirl the whiskey in my ss, pretending it’s the reason my hands are tense.


    It’s not.


    “You know,” Caroline says from beside me, “I thought you had better self-control.”


    I turn to her slowly. She’s smiling, but there’s too much sharpness in her expression. Caroline always knew how to dig.


    “Excuse me?” I ask, lifting my ss to my lips.


    The alcohol burns. It doesn’t help. Caroline tilts her head. Her blonde hair is pinned back in a way that makes her look less dangerous than she is.


    She’s been my cousin since birth. My best friend is longer than that. But right now, she’s thest person I want dissecting me with those clever, knowing eyes.


    “You heard me,” she says. “Everyone’s watching you, you know. Watching her.”


    I set the ss down. Too hard. It thuds against the wood, and Caroline’s eyes flick to it, amused. She’s always amused when I’m unraveling.


    I don’t say anything. Because there’s nothing to say. And she knows it. Instead, I watch Celine hand off the tray of sses to another maid.


    Her fingers shake. Barely, but I notice.


    “You disappeared that night,” Caroline says after a moment.


    Like she’s talking about the weather. Like she’s not cutting me open.


    I nce at her, annoyed. “What night?”


    Her smile twists. “The ckout party. Three years ago.”


    Istiffen. Immediately. The words alone pull something tight in my chest. Something I don’t understand. I remember that night.


    Sort of.


    More like pieces of it. Blurred. Dark. Heat. Skin. The softest lips I’ve ever touched. Augh. Brown eyes. Vani. But none of it fits together. And it drives me insane that I can’t make it make sense.


    “You left for over an hour,” Caroline says, swirling the red wine in her ss. “I figured you’d found someone to screw, but when you came back… you looked wrecked. And you never told me why.”


    She nces at me, curious. Or maybe she already knows. Caroline always knows.


    “I don’t remember,” I tell her, my voice tow, it’s the truth. And it’s a tie. Because my body remembers. My hands remember.


    The taste of something sweet, the weight of someone beneath me, the way my chest felt like it might cave in when they whispered something I couldn’t


    114


    recall.


    Her eyes sharpen. “Maybe you should try.” I drag a hand through my hair, frustration burning under my skin.


    “I’ve tried,” I snap. “Every goddamn night.”


    Her smile fades then. And she studies me in silence. For a long, long time. “I used to think she was lying,” Caroline says quietly. I freeze.


    “Celine?”


    Her name feels different when Caroline says it. Like a question.


    Like an usation. Or maybe a warning. Caroline nods, then sips her wine.


    Her gaze flicks back to Celine. “She’s hiding something. But maybe it’s not what you think.”


    I swallow hard, my throat tight. “What do you mean?”


    She looks at me again. Her expression is impossible to read.


    But I know her. And there’s something dangerous in her voice when she speaks again.


    “I think,” she says slowly, “you should start asking the right questions, cousin.”


    She walks away after that. Like she didn’t just throw a grenade into my chest and leave me holding the pin.


    That night, I can’t sleep. I don’t even try. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling like it has answers. Like if I stare long enough, something will click into ce.


    It doesn’t.


    The house is too quiet. The parties are over. The guests are gone. But my mind is still full of noise.


    I close my eyes. Try to breathe. But all I can think about is the weight of Celine in my arms on the dance floor. The way she trembled when I touched her waist.


    The way she didn’t pull away. The way she didn’t want to pull away I press the heel of my palm to my forehead.


    Hard. As if I can push the memories out. The fragments. The shes.


    Warmth. Brown eyes. Vani. Soft sounds. A gasp. Her name- – ‘No, not her name.’ I didn’t know it then.


    I groan and roll over, kicking the sheets off. They’re tangled around my legs. Like they always are. I’m sweating. Again. And I hate it. This is the third night in a row I’ve woken up like this. Hard.


    Breathless. Frustrated. But tonight’s different. Because now I have something I didn’t before.


    Caroline’s words. ‘You should start asking the right questions.’ I sit up. Run both hands through my hair. And then I hear it. Soft. Like a whisper in the


    dark.


    A name.


    2


    “Celine.”


    It echoes in my head, and for a second, I swear I can feel her. Her breath was on my neck. Her fingers are in my hair. Her body is under mine.


    I scrub a hand down my face. Fuck. This is getting out of control. But I can’t stop now. I need answers. And I know exactly where to get them.


    I throw the covers off, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, My fest hit the cold floor, grounding me


    But it doesn’t help.


    I stand anyway. I don’t bother turning on the lights. I know this house in the dark. Better than anyone. And I know where she’s sleeping, 1 know Keser to get there without anyone seeing.


    Without anyone hearing.


    I shouldn’t go to her room. I know that. But the thing about crossing lines is… Once you start, it gets easier. And easier. Until there’s no line left to cros


    And right now, I want the truth more than I want to be g


    good.


    ~CELINE’S POV-


    There’s a certain silence that creeps in after chaos. A stillness that doesn’t feel peaceful. It feels like the space between two breaths.


    Too quiet.


    Too heavy.


    I tucked Caesar in for the third time that night, smoothing my palm over his dark curls, He murmured something in his sleep, his little hand clutching the edge of the nket like he always did when he was restless.


    My heart tugged at the sight of him. I should’ve protected him better tonight. I should’ve-I stopped myself. There were too many should’ve and not enough ways to fix them.


    And then I heard it.


    Voices.


    Soft at first. Just a murmur. But unmistakably close.


    I froze, my hand hovering above Caesar’s tiny chest. His breathing remained steady,pletely unaware of the sudden shift in mine. <fnb03c> Chapters first released on Find★Novel</fnb03c>


    I moved quietly toward the door, my bare feet silent against the cold floorboards. The hallway was dimly lit, but the soft voices carried through.


    Ana And…Him.


    **


    I slid the door open a crack, holding my breath. And there he was. Hunter Reid.


    Except, he wasn’t the man who stood above corporate empires or controlled rooms with a single look.


    He wasn’t the man who danced with me tonight, his hand pressed firm against my back, his breath warm at my ear.


    He was something else now.


    Something worse.


    His ck T-shirt stretched across his chest, his grey/sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He looked almost… normal. But his eyes.


    Those blue eyes didn’t belong to a safe man. And for one unbearable second, they found mine.


    Neither of us moved.


    Neither of us blinked.


    And then I did the only thing that made sense. I shut the door.


    Leaning back against it, Llet my breath tremble out of me like I’d been holding it all night


    My heart mmed against my ribs so hard, I thought I’d bruise from the inside out.


    Why was he here? Why was he always here?


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