Chapter 47
BELLA
Carrington Row – Wexley University
The party’s simmered into something soft and electric. The music’s still pulsing from Knox’s booth. But the craziness has faded into lazy dancing, laughter by the fire pit, and half-drunk Wolves cannon-balling into the pool.
Lex is holding me in the pool, his grip strong like if he lets go, I’ll drift away.
My back is pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around my stomach, locking me in.
The water clings to my skin like silk, warm and weightless.
But even submerged, I can still smell him—leather and spice, sharp and addictive.
It curls around me, threading through the steam, making it impossible to forget who’s holding me.
“You killed it tonight,” he says low, voice rough from vodka and need. “You, Ellie, Haley… fuck, baby. I wanted to drag you off stage and lock you up all night.”
I smile, slow and lazy. “So dramatic.”
“Get fucking used to it, baby,” he says as he turns me around so I’m facing him. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands slowly slipping down to my ass before he squeezes.
A quiet laugh slips out of me. Pressing in close, I rest my head on his shoulder. He holds me there. One hand rubbing soft, slow circles down my back.
“You wanna know something,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, water dripping from his jaw.
“You made sense to me so fucking fast, it scared me. When I held you—when you settled into me like you’d been doing it your whole life—I knew.
You felt safe, like your chaos could finally breathe.
Like maybe I could hold it back for you, even just for a little while. ”
He takes a deep breath. “I knew this wasn’t just a moment. It wasn’t a passing. What I feel for you? It’s permanent.”
He breathes in like he’s trying to slow the storm behind his eyes. “I love you, Bella.”
I lift my head from his shoulder, my eyes locking into his piercing icy-blues that always see too much. My breath shudders, but I don’t look away.
“I love you, Lex.”
Just the truth, soft and quiet, but solid as steel between us. Raw, real, and finally said.
I feel his entire body freeze against mine. His hand flexes on my back. His breath hitches. Then he exhales, shaky, like I just undid something in him.
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to. He lifts a hand to my neck and pulls me up to his lips and kisses me deep and tender. Like he’s been waiting his whole life for me to say those words.
He lifts me out of the pool, water sliding down my legs as I wrap them around his waist. The heat rolling off his bare chest is all I need.
He carries me like I’m his and sets me down by the lounger just long enough for us to dry off, grab our stuff, and change.
The music is still pulsing behind us, bodies moving under the multicolored lights, but the party is fading into a blur. I don’t care about drinks or dancing anymore. I just want him.
“Where are we going?” I ask once we’re on his bike, his hand already on my thigh.
Lex grins. “Home.”
I arch a brow. “Redspire or Rosethorne?”
“Neither. Thought I’d take you somewhere better tonight.”
???
We pull up ten minutes later and I gasp.
“No fucking way,” I whisper as I stare up at the building in front of us. The sleek black glass, brutalist lines, and a tall steel entrance glint like a knife under the moonlight.
My building.
Zeke’s building.
Home.
Lex turns off the bike and glances at me. “You good?”
“This is my building.”
“What?”
I whip around to face him. “Lex. This is where I live.”
He stares. “You live at Rosethorne, baby. The fuck do you mean your building?”
“I live at Rosethorne, yes but this this…” I say pointing to the building. “This is my home. I’ve lived here since I was fourteen. Penthouse. Forty-first floor.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. I moved in with Zeke the night we escaped Miami. This has been my home ever since.”
“You’re telling me I’ve been living in the same building as you for months and didn’t know it?”
I nod slowly, watching it all hit him.
“Wait, are you on the thirty-first floor?” I ask.
Lex’s eyes narrow. “How the hell do you know that?”
“This building’s unique. High demand with barely any tenant turnover.” I lift a shoulder. “There’s only been one new resident in the last year and a half.”
He stares. I keep going.
“Nate and Tex pitched our tech to your dad years ago. Zeke helped set up the first system here. Your dad loved it, signed a contract, and now almost every Barinov-owned building in the country runs on D9 Tech… Project Dylan’s own private security system.”
Lex drags a hand down his face, muttering, “Jesus Christ.”
“And since I technically own Project Dylan and D9 Tech,” I add, crossing my arms. “I still have admin access. I get alerts when new lock codes are added and assigned to the units. I just never knew it was you and Cade. I was so busy with school and dance I never opened the file to read the names, just hit accept on the code and went on with my day.”
Lex groans, tipping his head back. “So, my dad is a Project Dylan client?”
“Technically,” I say with a shrug. “He thinks it’s just D9 Tech. Got himself a hell of a deal on a top-tier security upgrade.”
I pause, letting it hang for effect. “He doesn’t know a damn thing about Project Dylan. Or that his building’s security is running on the blood, sweat, and blackmail of a traumatized orphan with a Batman complex.”
“Goddamn.” He looks at me again. Slower this time. Like something’s clicking into place.
“So, you really live in the penthouse?” he asks.
I nod once. “Yeah. Since I was fourteen.”
“All this time… you were just ten floors above me.”
“Guess fate’s a cocky bastard.”
Lex grins, pure wolf. “No, baby. I’m the cocky bastard. And fate just gave me the best fucking twist of my life. But how the hell have we never seen each other?”
I take in a deep breath and look up at the building, fighting back the sting in my eyes. “Because I haven’t been back here in a very long time. None of us have.”
???
My building… our building, I guess.
The elevator doors slide shut with a soft hiss. I glance at the glowing panel. Then back at him.
“So…” I lift my brows, trying to sound casual, but my voice comes out a little breathier than I want.
“Which floor?” I drag the question out, soft and teasing, knowing damn well what I’m doing to him right now. “Forty-one or thirty-one?”
He pushes off the wall and crowds me back against the opposite one near the access panel, palms landing beside my head.
“I want to take you home, baby.” His voice is low. Rough silk and danger. Sweet teddy bear Lex is gone, replaced by the man who makes my thighs clench and my lungs forget how to work properly.
He leans in, nose brushing mine, voice nothing but a whisper against my lips. “Not the penthouse. Not some cabana at the damn Row.”
His mouth barely ghosts mine.
“My home.”
Then he reaches behind me and presses the button. Thirty-one.
We get to his door and he punches in the code.
“Welcome to Casa de Barinov, baby,” he says, sweeping his arm dramatically like he’s unveiling a palace.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”
The moment I step inside, something in my chest swells. It’s beautiful. All sleek and modern, a beautiful open concept with concrete floors, black steel beams, and soft amber lighting.
The space breathes in long, clean lines. Kitchen island with dark matte cabinets, bar stools that scream expensive, and a leather couch facing a modern fireplace that flickers low behind black glass.
My eyes catch on a painting above the mantle—stormy and abstract, mostly blacks and grays with jagged streaks of white slicing through it.
Cade. It’s his. I’d know his style anywhere.
I walk farther in, fingers grazing the edge of the couch, the back of the bar stool, the mantle. It’s all lived-in, but not messy. The way a space feels when two people are trying to make it home without saying it out loud.
I stop at the floor-to-ceiling windows and let out a quiet breath. Same skyline. Same stars. Same city pulsing beneath me.
Lex steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist like he always does. His chest is warm at my back, his breath steady against my neck.
“I always loved this view,” I whisper.
“How long’s it been?”
“Since the funeral. I tried to come back once,” my throat tightens. “I had a full-blown panic attack before I even made it past the lobby.”
Lex rests his chin on my shoulder, “If you want to go up there, I’ll be right with you. Every step. We’ll face it together, baby.”
I turn in his arms, look up at him. “I do… but not right now.” I bite my lip. “I want to do something else first.”
“Thank fucking God.” Lex says as he lifts me off the floor and carries me to the bedroom. Kissing me the whole way there.
He lays me down gently, the mattress dipping beneath me as his hands linger a second longer than they need to. Then he straightens, yanking his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.
My eyes drag over every inch of him, those brutal arms inked with shadows, the phoenix spread between his collarbones. The sharp cut of his abs and that deep V that disappears into his shorts like it’s inviting me to sin.
“Eyes up here, baby.”
I laugh, soft and breathless, because he’s right, I’ve been caught. When I look back up, those piercing ice-blues are locked on mine, full of fire and need.
He leans in, kissing me deep, slow at first, then harder. His hands slide under my top, fingers rough and reverent as they cup my bare breasts, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks until I gasp.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mutters against my lips before lifting the shirt off me entirely and tossing it aside.
His mouth trails down my neck, sucking just hard enough to leave proof. He moves lower kissing, biting, worshiping until he reaches my breasts.