Chapter Twenty
LUKE
The house was quiet when I pulled into the drive. Too quiet. I killed the engine, the headlights washing out the garage door before darkness snapped back in. For a minute I just sat there, phone heavy in my palm, my PI’s voicemail replaying in my head.
“Luke, it’s Marcus. I’ve dug up a few things. Sending over an encrypted file—should hit your inbox soon. Darren Langley’s logs don’t add up. Travel records don’t match. There’s footage too, blurry as hell, but it might be something. Call me back.”
I hadn’t called him back yet.
Instead, I got out and leaned against the hood of my SUV, the chill of the metal bleeding through my jeans, and opened the attachment.
Falsified logs. Fake travel records. Dates bent to fit an agenda, not reality. And the photo—a grainy shot of a figure leaving King Enterprises the night Darren Langley disappeared.
The face was a smear. The shoulders—broad, sloped—hit a nerve. Familiar enough to make my gut knot. Not proof. Just a shape that wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t be. But maybe.
I closed the file and opened it again, hoping the blur would sharpen. It didn’t. Just suspicion, heavy as stone.
I wouldn’t dump the still on Mila—not until I had more than a blurred frame. But the rest—the numbers, the dates—I’d show her. We were past pretending.
The money trail said Dunn was paying Langley.
Langley worked at King. That meant someone inside King was feeding Dunn.
Not rumor—transactions. And Mila’s mom being back at Dunn after working with King didn’t read as coincidence; it felt intentional.
Dunn didn’t just push, he arranged. Put people where he wanted them, then tightened the net.
And if I was all in with Mila—and I was, no question—that meant keeping her safe, no matter how deep the rot went.
Things had been quiet too long. Elise keeping her head down. Her dad pulling strings, maybe more than we knew. Elise running her own angles under his. It wouldn’t stay this way. Not for long.
I scrolled my phone, thumb hovering before hitting Theo’s name.
He picked up after the second ring, voice rough. “What’s up?”
“How’s it going with Tori?”
A pause. I heard the sound of a TV in the background, muffled laughter. “She’s scared of Elise,” he admitted. “Not just scared—controlled. They’ve cut her off. She’s not hearing things the way she used to.”
I clenched my jaw. “Is Tori willing to push back?”
“She’s trying.” Theo’s voice dropped. “She said she’d feel out Nina, see what she can get from her. But nothing yet. And her internship’s a dead end. She’s not close to the big players. At least not right now.”
I let the silence hang a beat. “Keep at it. Careful, though.”
“Always,” he said, then exhaled. “And, Luke? Watch your back. If Elise is quiet, it’s only because she’s loading the next shot.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I know.”
We hung up.
My phone buzzed again almost immediately.
Mila: Sneaking out. Mom passed out on the couch. Pick me up? Let’s go to the roof.
The screen dimmed in my hand, then turned black. I didn’t bother waking it back up.
Because right now? She was the only truth I needed.
I pulled up to the curb outside her house, headlights cutting across the front yard. The TV flickered blue in the living room.
The front door eased open a crack, then Mila slipped out. She wore an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, her hair loose and catching the porch light for a heartbeat before she darted across the grass. She slid into the SUV and pulled the door shut, her smile wide and electric.
“Hey,” she whispered, as if the night belonged to us.
“Hey.” My chest loosened just seeing her.
We drove a short way before I cut the engine behind the rink. No one would notice us here—only a few staff cars scattered across the lot.
“Side door.” I nodded toward the back. “Still got the key.”
Mila’s eyes flickered with something between mischief and challenge. “Of course you do.”
The lock clicked under my hand, the heavy metal door creaking just enough to set my nerves on edge. Inside, the corridor smelled faintly of cold and old rubber, the hum of the compressors deep in the walls. We moved quiet, sneakers whispering against floor, until we hit the stairwell.
The climb felt endless, the echo of each step chasing us up. At the top, another door—this one stiff but not locked. I shoved my shoulder into it, and it gave way. The night air rushed in, cool and welcome.
The roof stretched flat beneath us, tar-black and gritty under the glow of arena lights bleeding from below. The town spread out in the distance, streetlamps glowing soft gold, the coast dark and endless beyond.
I dropped the blanket I’d stuffed under my arm, spreading it across the rough surface. Mila sank onto it, legs folding beneath her, hair catching the starlight. The star charm at her throat winked with every breath she took.
I stretched out beside her, the blanket barely softening the hard roof, and pulled her in close.
We lay shoulder to shoulder, her head tucked against me, my arm curling around her waist. The stars above us were brutal in their clarity, the kind of night sky that made you feel both infinite and small.
“Whatever happens,” she said softly, breaking the quiet, “don’t lie to me.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“On us.”
She tilted her head, kissed me once. Not fire. Not urgent. This one felt like forever. And it undid me.
I deepened it, turning toward her, pulling her closer until her chest pressed flush against mine. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, dragging me with her as she shifted, rolling so I half-covered her.
The world narrowed to the heat between us, to the taste of her, to the way her breath hitched when my hand slid under her sweatshirt and found skin—warm, soft, real.
Her lips parted, inviting, and I lost myself there. “Mila…” My voice broke against her mouth.
She only answered by pulling me closer, legs tangling with mine, her body arching up.
We’d shared wild, desperate kisses before, but tonight, there was no rush. No panic. No edge of being caught. Just us, under the sky, nothing in the way.
Her hand skimmed down my chest, slipped beneath the hem of my shirt. My breath stuttered. She felt it, smiled against my mouth, and pushed further.
I braced myself on one hand, careful not to crush her, but she tugged harder, pulling me down until there was no space left.
The stars above us burned, the silver one cool against her throat as the chain shifted. My lips followed it, tracing down the line of her neck, across her collarbone, tasting the salt on her skin.
Her fingers fisted in my hair. A soft sound escaped her throat, raw and unguarded.
And then there were no more brakes.
Clothes pulled aside, skin against skin, the roof hard beneath us but none of it mattering because her warmth erased everything else.
Her eyes found mine in the starlight, wide, certain. “Luke,” she whispered.
I kissed her again, harder, and we crossed the line together.
The air between us thickened—heat and want coiled tight, the kind that burned slow before it combusted. Every inch of her drew me closer. My hands slid over her hips. Her breath caught, and she arched into me like she couldn’t get close enough. Mila was an addiction I couldn’t—wouldn’t—quit.
When her lips brushed across mine, going slow wasn’t an option. I deepened the kiss so it was both claiming and surrender tangled together, devouring her, invading her mouth until she moaned. Her heartbeat pounded against my chest, wild and certain, matching mine.
She whispered my name, and the sound hit low and hard in my chest. I answered with a promise against her skin, a rough sound that barely counted as words. Everything in me wanted to memorize her—every breath, every tremor, the way she gasped when I moved, and the way her fingers clutched my hair.
The world fell away until there was nothing but the two of us—her warmth under my hands, the scrape of the roof beneath the blanket, the cool rush of night air over overheated skin. Every movement blurred into the next, the rhythm between us tightening until there was no line left to cross.
I slid my fingers down her silky skin and brushed in a teasing caress over her small bundle of nerves. Met by her warm, wet heat, I slipped my finger in, my thumb circling her clit as I pumped inside her. She writhed beneath me, then I curled my finger until she gasped.
“Luke.”
Her throaty whisper wrapped around me, sending a rush of desperate need pulsing through me.
I reached for my jeans, fumbling for my wallet. Wrenched free from my pocket, I hastily retrieved a condom, tore the wrapper with my teeth, then sheathed myself. A slow, sensual grin curved her lips. I lined up at her entrance, straining to bury myself deep inside.
Her nails dug into my shoulders, urging me to move. I fed an inch in, and a whimper left her lips before I thrust deep inside. She clenched tightly around me as I withdrew almost to the tip before driving all the way in.
As we moved together, every flicker of her expression pulled me deeper. The way her head tipped back, the sound that caught in her throat—God, she was beautiful.
She pulled me closer, her legs tightening around me, every breath coming faster.
Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging as she kissed me, matching my need.
When she caught my lip between her teeth and eased the sting with her tongue, I lost it.
I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck.
The other gripped her ass as I drove deep.
Her hips tilted, and she met my furious pace.
Before I lost control, part of me yelled to pay attention to how fucking right everything about it felt.
I fucking loved how responsive she was. She arched against me, and a wave of lust drove me to go harder, faster until her body convulsed around me, and she cried out.
Two more thrusts, and I followed her. I dropped against her for a second, then shifted, bracing on my arms as we caught our breath. The cool air cut across my back, slipping between us in the space my shift created, waves breaking somewhere in the distance.
We both groaned when I pulled out, and she slid her legs down. I dragged a hand through my hair, still reeling from how badly I wanted her. One touch from Mila could drop me.
I pressed my forehead to hers, both of us caught in the same pull that had always existed.
And when the tension broke, it was all light and silence and the faint hum of the ocean in the distance.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. I felt her pulse against my chest, steadying, grounding. She breathed out, and I caught the sound with my lips—a quiet, content exhale that settled deep inside me.
After, we lay tangled, my shirt bunched under her head, her body curled into mine. The night wrapped around us, stars endless overhead. The roof was hard beneath the blanket, the air cool against my skin, but none of it mattered. She was warm, steady, here.
Her fingers traced the inside of my arm, slow and absent, as though she was memorizing the shape of me. “It feels different,” she murmured.
“Because it is.” My voice came out rough, low.
Different because her hand was still on my chest, steady on my heartbeat. Because she knew I loved her. And I would burn the world down before I let anyone take her. We just needed to make it out of here, get to college, and the world could be ours.
The truth sat heavy in my chest. Protecting her might mean tearing into my own flesh and blood, uncovering things about my family I’d spent years trying not to see.
It might mean exposing whatever Elise and her dad were plotting, cutting the strings they kept pulling tight around us.
None of that mattered as much as this—her, here, against me.
Our futures felt close enough to touch. And the only one I wanted was with her. I would find a way to make that happen, no matter what stood in the way.
She must’ve felt it—the resolve in me, the promise—because her hand slid higher on my chest, palm pressing over my heart. No words. Just the smallest nod against my shoulder, as if she understood I was all in now.
She tilted her head, cheek brushing my shoulder. Silence stretched, filled with the hum of the ocean beyond town, the rustle of palm fronds in the breeze.
Her hand shifted on my chest, flat against the steady pound of my heart. “I used to think I’d never get this again. Especially with how things were when I came back.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “For how I treated you. I was pissed, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve tried to talk to you.”
Something in her eyes flickered, the starlight catching the shine there. “And I should’ve told you the truth before I left. Even if my mom didn’t want me to. You deserved that.”
I shook my head, thumb stroking the corner of her mouth. “We both screwed it up.”
“But we’re here now,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” My voice came rough.
She looked up at me then, eyes glinting faintly in the starlight, the star charm pressed between us.
“Don’t disappear on me,” I said, the words breaking rougher than I meant.
Her lips parted, soft with regret. “I won’t. Not again.”
I cupped her cheek, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “Good. Because I couldn’t take it twice.”
Her lips curved then, small and certain. I kissed her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, then her lips, softer this time.
We stayed there, staring at the sky, both of us breathing slower. The stars looked endless, scattered across the black.
She whispered, almost to herself, “It feels like forever up here.”
I tightened my arm around her waist. “That’s what I want with you. Forever.”
Her breath caught, a tiny sound. She pressed her face into my chest, and I felt her smile against me.
And as the night stretched on, with her against me, there was no doubt left. I knew—no matter what waited with Elise, with her dad, with the shadow games between the companies—this was it. She wasn’t just my present. She was where it all ended—and began.