Chapter 9
STASSI
The second I step out of the dining room, the calm I faked starts to crack.
I'm halfway back to my room before I realize I'm shaking.
Not from fear, but from that old, familiar rage that used to make Theo's eyes darken with appreciation.
The rage he only ever brought out. The part of me he wanted to tame.
I don't care what you're hiding.
His dismissal cuts deeper than any threat. And that look in his eyes when he said it—like I was already a threat, already guilty of something.
I lean against an old wood beam that separates the hallway from one of the sitting rooms and stare out the window into the darkness.
He's not wrong to be angry. Not wrong to be cold. Not wrong to want answers I still can't give.
But dammit, I told him I was scared, and that's why I left.
And he said nothing. Just brushed it off.
Now I don't regret not telling him all of the reasons I was scared.
I swallow hard. I feel it now—that ache. The one I've kept buried since I showed up. Since I handed him my vulnerability on a platter when I asked for help, and he just pushed it off the fucking table like it was trash.
I may not deserve a lot of things, but I sure as hell don't deserve to be treated like a doormat.
I spin on my heel, Calli's black dress twisting around my legs as I march back to the dining room, my heels clicking across the marble like gunfire.
I'm mad now. Angry. I do this, I know. I push things down, tell myself I deserve it, and then explode.
I know it. He knows it.
So if he wants a war, he's about to get one.
I find Theo still seated, swirling a new glass of wine, his jaw set in that hard line I used to trace with my fingertips.
"You know what?" I snap. "I get that you're angry. I do. But I told you I was scared, and you acted like I said nothing at all."
He leans back in the chair.
"You done?"
"Not even close."
He arches a brow. "Then by all means, keep going. This is fun."
I walk toward him, heart beating rapidly. "I didn't come back to grovel. I didn't come back to be judged like I'm nothing but trash."
"No," he says, eyes narrowing. "You came back to lie. Again."
"I haven't lied to you."
"You're keeping things from me, Stassi," he says, standing now, towering over me. "Every second you stay silent is a lie."
"You think this is easy for me?" I shoot back, stepping close to him. "I'm walking a tightrope, Theo, and all you're doing is lighting fires under it."
He's breathing hard now. "You don't get to make your fear my problem."
"You know what?" I yell, not bothering to keep my voice down. "Fuck you, Theo."
He tilts his head. "Excuse me?"
"I told you I was scared. That's the truth. But you don't want to hear it because it doesn't fit your narrative of me as the cold-hearted bitch who abandoned you."
He shoots hot air out his nose. "And what narrative should I be following, Stassi? The one where you had a perfectly good reason to disappear without a fucking word? Leaving behind a life where we could have ended up..." he trails off.
"There's no perfect reason," I say, shrugging, lifting my arms into the air, "but there is a reason. One I can't just blurt out over lamb and wine like we're catching up on old times."
"Then when? When do I get the truth? Tomorrow? Next week? Or are you going to vanish again the moment whatever you're running from is gone?"
There's a new edge to his voice that wasn't there years ago. A hardness. This isn't just my Theo anymore—this is Theo Kastaris, the man who makes people disappear.
"I'm not going anywhere," I say, taking a step forward. "Not this time."
"Bold promise from someone who planned on leaving a fucking note."
The accusation hits like a physical blow. "It was just a temporary fix. I wanted to talk to you over the phone first. See how you felt. I don't know, Theo. Since the beginning, I did what I had to do."
"For who?" His voice drops dangerously. "For yourself? Because it sure as hell wasn't for me."
"For both of us!" I say. "You think I wanted to—" I cut myself off, my throat tight.
He moves closer. So close I can smell the wine on his breath, feel his heat on my skin. "Wanted what? Finish that sentence."
I back up until suddenly I'm pinned against the doorframe. "I thought about you every day. Every fucking day. I may be a lot of things to you right now, but I'm not your enemy, Theo."
His eyes flicker to my lips and then back to my eyes. Between the range of emotions running through me, I don't know if the heat I'm now feeling is from anger or for him.
"Then what are you?"
I shake my head. "I don't know, but I just want to make sure no matter what, you'll protect me."
"Depends on the truth."
“That’s what I’m working on putting into words. I just need to know you won’t—“ I swallow the rest.
His eyes narrow. “Won’t what?"
“Shut me out,” I say. "I need to know you'll protect me regardless of what I say."
"You're asking for loyalty when you showed none."
The words cut deep. I'm not holding back because I want to lie. I'm holding back because I don't know how to say it yet.
"I showed loyalty in the only way I could. You just don't see it yet."
"Then make me see," he growls.
"I would if I could just get my thoughts straight!" I push against his chest. God, his body is even harder than I remember, all solid muscle.
We're at an impasse, staring at each other, neither willing to give ground. His eyes drop again to my mouth for the briefest second, and heat curls low in my belly. This time I know the reason.
Guilt claws at my throat. "I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did." His eyes hold mine. "And here you are, asking for my help, and keeping secrets."
I stand straighter. "I will tell you everything. Just please be patient."
He's moving as close to me as possible without actually touching me.
"Tell me now," he demands, voice low.
Keeping it all in is too much, and he's wearing me down. Without thinking, some spills over.
"Someone knows something they shouldn't, and I have no idea how or why."
"Do I have something to do with it?"
"Yes."
He studies me for a moment, as if he'll learn the rest through my eyes.
"Tell me how."
I give him a look that he knows all to well.
His hand comes up to cup my jaw. "You remember the rules, don't you?"
My breath catches. The air thickens. Of course I do.
Every single one.
Rule number one: Never lie to Sir.
Rule number two: Always answer when spoken to.
Rule number three: Disobedience has consequences.
"Yes," I whisper.
His thumb traces my lower lip, a touch that creates a fire on my skin.
My knees nearly give out.
Heat pools between my legs, treacherous and familiar. This is how it always was—me defiant, him dominant, both of us burning up from the inside out.
"But I'm not your good girl anymore," I say, not as confident as I should be.
His smile. "No? Then why are you trembling?"
"Because I'm angry."
"Maybe it's memory." He leans in, his lips a breath away from mine. "You're wet right now, aren't you? Remembering how it was between us."
I should slap him. I should walk away. Instead, I meet his stare, unflinching. "And you're hard. So I guess we're both remembering."
His jaw tightens. For a moment, I think he might kiss me, or prove me right by showing exactly how hard he is.
Instead, he steps back, cold and controlled once more. "Time's ticking, Stassi. When it's up, you'll need to find somewhere else to hide."
The sudden distance leaves me reeling. "Wait. Just like that? You're walking away?"
"I'm giving you a chance to think about what matters more—your secrets or your safety." He straightens his shirt, his face unreadable. "Choose wisely."
As he goes to walk past me to leave, I look at him. "You're still trying to control everything. That hasn't changed."
He pauses in the doorway. "Neither have you," he says, looking over his shoulder. "The difference now is, I'm not chasing anymore."
With that, he's gone, leaving me alone with his words and the ache between my thighs that I haven't felt since I left.
I slide down the wall, curling my fingers into fists. He walked away, and I didn't stop him. I should've. But part of me is still back in L.A., frozen in the moment I got the news, trying to piece together a version of the truth that won't break us both.
Maybe he's right.
But if he knew what I was hiding, everything between us would burn.
And I'm not ready for the ashes.