Chapter Ten
Hailey
I’ve been dreading tonight all day. Knox texted this morning about a work conflict, some security issue at one of Cole’s properties
that needed his attention, and my first thought wasn’t disappointment. It was fear. Because a night without Knox means no
one between me and Liam if he follows me again, and after last night, after I saw his face in the streetlight and felt my
whole world crack down the middle, I don’t know if I’m ready to face him.
I’m not ready to face him.
My present is finally worth something. I have friends and a career and a man who looks at me like I’m the best thing that
ever happened to him. I spent five years building this life from nothing, and I’m not ready to watch it crumble because my
past decided to show up on a snowy Brooklyn sidewalk.
But I can’t hide in the studio forever, so I bundle into my coat and start the long walk home, scanning every shadow and doorway
like the paranoid ex-criminal I apparently still am underneath all this legitimate jewelry designer polish.
He’s there within two blocks. I feel him before I see him, that familiar prickle at the back of my neck that used to mean
safety and now just means trouble. My old training kicks in without permission, instincts I thought I’d buried rising to the
surface like bodies in a thaw. I catch his reflection in a storefront window as I pretend to examine a display of vintage
ornaments. Half a block back, dark coat, hands in pockets, watching me with that patient focus I used to find so attractive.
I could turn around right now. March up to him and demand to know what he wants, why he’s here, what happened to our agreement.
We were supposed to wait ten years before we touched the diamond.
Ten years for the heat to die down completely, for the man we stole from to stop looking, for the world to forget that the Snowflake Diamond ever existed.
That was the plan. That was our retirement fund, our insurance policy, our ticket to whatever life we wanted once enough time had passed.
Five years isn’t ten. Five years is too soon.
But I don’t turn around, because I’m not ready for that conversation. I’m not ready to look into Liam Calloway’s eyes and
figure out whether he’s here for the diamond or for me or for something worse. I’m not ready to explain where I’ve been and
who I’ve become and why I never reached out, not once, in all the years since I disappeared.
So I keep walking, and he keeps following, and we maintain this careful distance like two magnets that know better than to
get too close.
The smart thing would be to lose him. I know this neighborhood well enough to shake a tail, could duck through the bodega
on the corner and out the back entrance, cut through the alley behind the laundromat, disappear into the subway and resurface
somewhere he’d never think to look. I’ve done it before, back when losing a tail meant the difference between freedom and
a prison cell.
But I don’t want to run from Liam. I want to understand why he’s here.
I just don’t want to understand it tonight.
I turn on to my block and stop beneath a streetlight, letting the yellow glow pool around me. When I turn to face him, he’s
standing at the edge of the light with his hands in his pockets, watching me with those dark eyes that used to make me forget
my own name.
God, he looks good. Liam Calloway was always unfairly beautiful, a man who could make you forget your own moral code just by walking into a room.
His face has hardened since I last saw it, the boyish charm weathered into something more brutal, but it only makes him more magnetic.
He stands there like a predator pretending to be tame, every line of his body radiating tension and quiet threat, and my body responds before my brain can stop it.
Five years, and he still makes my pulse stutter like a rookie on her first job.
I remember what it felt like to have his hands on me. The way he used to fuck me like he was trying to crawl inside my skin,
like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard he tried. Liam never did anything halfway, and sex was no exception.
He’d pin me against walls, bend me over tables, wake me up in the middle of the night because he couldn’t stand having me
next to him and not being inside me. I’d never felt so consumed by another person. So completely owned.
His hand closed around my throat in that hotel room in Vienna, not squeezing, just holding. Claiming. I was pinned beneath
him, my back arching off the mattress, his cock buried so deep inside me I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against my mouth, his hips rolling slow and devastating. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
His grip tightened, just enough to make my head swim, and he smiled like I’d given him the world. “Every gorgeous inch of
you. Every thought in that brilliant head. Every breath you take.” He pulled out slowly, then slammed back in so hard I cried
out. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, Hailey. And you’re going to thank me for it.”
He released my throat, his hand moving to grasp my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh as he ground against me. I could
feel every ridge, every vein of him, as he slid in and out, his pace quickening. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling
him deeper, my body meeting his thrusts eagerly.
His mouth left mine, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, pausing to suck at the pulse point. I could feel my heartbeat against his lips, my breath coming in short, sharp pants. His other hand cupped my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
“Look at me,” he commanded. I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze. It was intense, possessive, and utterly consuming. “Who
do you belong to?” he asked, his hips slamming against mine.
“You,” I breathed, my body tensing, my inner muscles clenching around him. “Only you.”
A satisfied growl rumbled from his chest, and he sat back, his hands gripping my thighs, his eyes never leaving mine. His
pace quickened, his hips moving like a piston, driving me higher and higher. I could feel my orgasm building, my body coiling
like a spring ready to release.
“Come for me, Hailey,” he demanded. “Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
I shattered, his name ripped from my throat like a confession. And when I could finally breathe again, I slid down his body
and wrapped my lips around him, tasting myself on his skin as I took him deep, letting him fuck my mouth until his hands fisted
in my hair and he spilled down my throat with my name on his lips.
That’s the part that scares me most. Not that he found me, not that he’s watching, but that some treacherous part of my body
still responds to him like no time has passed at all. Like I’d let him back in if he asked. Like I’d forget everything I’ve
built and everyone I’ve become just to feel that intensity again.
I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
We stare at each other across thirty feet of snowy pavement. I don’t move toward him and he doesn’t move toward me. Neither
of us speaks. What would we even say?
He gives me that half-smile I used to love, the one that always meant he knew something I didn’t. But there’s no mischief
behind it tonight. Just tired recognition, like he’s been waiting a long time for this moment and now that it’s here, he doesn’t
know what to do with it either.
Then he turns and walks away, disappearing around the corner like smoke.
I let out a long breath and my shoulders drop. My hands are shaking inside my coat pockets, and my heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
That could have been a confrontation. That could have been answers.
Instead it was just two people acknowledging a shared history and agreeing, without words, that neither of them is ready to
deal with it yet.
The walk up to my apartment takes forever. My legs feel like they’re filled with sand, and my brain won’t stop cycling through
questions I don’t have answers to. What does he want? Why now? What changed?
I’m supposed to be getting ready for dinner at Knox’s place. I’m supposed to be putting on something that makes his jaw drop,
maybe that black dress with the low back, definitely those silver earrings he bought me at the market. I’ve been thinking
about tonight since he asked me last night, imagining being alone with him in his space, finally crossing the line we’ve been
dancing around since the kiss.
But I can’t do it. Not tonight. Not with Liam’s face burned into my retinas and my past clawing at the edges of everything
I’ve tried to build.
Knox will know something’s wrong. He always knows. The man reads people like most humans read stop signs, automatically and
without effort. One look at my face and he’ll start asking questions, gentle at first and then more insistent, because that’s
who he is. He protects. He investigates. He doesn’t let things go.
And what am I supposed to tell him? Hey, funny story, before I was Sloane’s assistant I was a professional jewel thief.
My ex-boyfriend and I stole a twenty-million-dollar diamond from a Russian oligarch with connections to some very scary people, and we hid it in the Canadian wilderness as a retirement plan, and apparently my ex has decided that five years of radio silence is enough and now he’s stalking me through Brooklyn.
Also, I’m pretty sure I’m still attracted to him, which is super inconvenient given that I’m falling for you.
Yeah. That conversation would go great.
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen for a long moment before I start typing.
I’m so sorry but I need to cancel tonight. Not feeling well. Can we reschedule?
The reply comes almost instantly.
What’s wrong?
I chew my lip, trying to figure out how much to say. Lying to Knox feels wrong in a way I can’t quite articulate, like I’m
betraying something precious before it even has a chance to grow. But the truth isn’t an option either. Not yet. Not until
I figure out what Liam wants and whether my past is about to detonate my present.
Just a headache. Long day. I think I need to sleep it off.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Do you need anything? I can bring soup. Or medicine. Or just sit with you.
God, this man. This ridiculous, overprotective, impossibly sweet man is offering to bring me soup because I have a fake headache.
Meanwhile I’m lying through my teeth about who I really am.
No, I’ll be okay. Just need rest. I’m sorry to bail on you.
A pause. Then:
Get some rest. I’m not far if you need me.
He’s not asking permission. He’s just letting me know.
And I should probably find that invasive, but all I feel is relief.
If Knox is nearby, Liam will keep his distance.
Whatever conversation we need to have, whatever reckoning is coming, it won’t happen while I have a six-foot-three former Marine watching over me.
I’m not ready to face my past yet, and Knox’s obsessive protectiveness might be the only thing keeping it at bay.
Thank you. For understanding.
Always. Feel better, Hailey.
I set the phone down and move through the apartment on autopilot, checking windows, testing locks, yanking curtains closed
like they’ll protect me from whatever’s coming.
The dried roses catch my eye when I pass through the kitchen. Still hanging in the window where I put them weeks ago, preserved
because I thought they were romantic. Because I assumed Knox had left them and I wanted to hold on to that gesture.
A single red rose. Every time.
My stomach drops so fast I have to grab the counter.
Liam always brought me one rose. Never a dozen, never a bouquet. Just one perfect stem, because he said I wasn’t the kind
of woman who needed to be buried in flowers to feel special. It was our thing, our signature, our private language. On the
pillow after our first night together. Waiting on my seat before a job. Tucked into my suitcase when I wasn’t looking so I’d
find it later and think of him.
One rose. Every single time.
And I’ve been drying them in my window like love letters from someone else.
How did I miss this? How did I not recognize his signature on every single stem?
Because I didn’t want to. Because it was easier to believe that Liam had moved on, found some other partner, some other life, some other woman to bring single roses to.
I told myself he wouldn’t come looking because the alternative was too terrifying to consider.
Liam can find anyone. I’ve watched him track down a forger in witness protection once, just for fun, just to prove he could do it.
If he wanted to find me, nothing I did would stop him.
I just assumed he didn’t want to.
Turns out I was the idiot who thought disappearing meant being forgotten. He’s been here for weeks, maybe months, leaving
his calling card on my doorstep again and again, and I was so caught up in Knox and my shiny new life that I couldn’t see
what was right in front of my face.
The roses weren’t romantic. They were a message.
I found you. I’ve always known exactly where you are.
I sink onto the couch and press my palms against my eyes until colors bloom in the darkness.
What does Liam want?
The diamond. It has to be. Twenty million dollars in flawless perfection, hidden somewhere in the Northwest Territories that
only I know about. Liam trusted me to stash it, and I never told him where. Insurance for both of us, he said. But really,
it was insurance for me. A secret I’ve kept for five years, the one piece of leverage I have if everything goes sideways.
Something must have changed. Some pressure I don’t know about, something that made him decide breaking our agreement was worth
the risk. Or maybe Kedrov got close enough to spook him. That man doesn’t forget, and he doesn’t forgive. We always knew he’d
keep looking.
But I’m not ready to go back to that life. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. But if Liam is back, trouble is coming with him.
It always does. And whatever brought him out of hiding is going to land on my doorstep whether I’m ready for it or not.
I watch the streetlight paint stripes across my ceiling through the blinds.
Somewhere out there, Knox is probably parked in his car, watching my building.
Protecting me from threats he doesn’t even know exist. And somewhere else, Liam is doing the same thing, watching from whatever shadow he’s found to hide in, waiting for me to be ready to face him.
Two men watching me. Two different versions of obsession.
One represents everything I want to become. The other represents everything I’m trying to leave behind.