Chapter Nineteen Dylan
There’s a hollow space in my chest where sleep should be.
Sunny is still curled against the pillow, hair tangled across her cheek, breathing soft and unguarded. She looks like someone who deserves peace.
Someone I never wanted to ruin.
But I also know this: I can't let her go.
Not after last night. Not after hearing her say I want you like it was truth she’d been afraid to speak.
My phone screen is still glowing on the nightstand—headlines multiplying like rot.
FIANCéE SPENDS NIGHT WITH BAD BOY BILLIONAIRECLOSE SOURCES SAY: “THEIR MARRIAGE WAS NEVER FAKE.”
Normally I handle press like a multibillion-dollar chess match.
Today I don't care about any of it.
Because all I can think about is how she fell asleep with my name on her breath.
I push away from the bed slowly, stepping into the adjoining room before I suffocate on my own thoughts.
Connor calls the second I close the door.
“You saw the news,” he says.
“I don’t give a damn about the news.”
“I’m not talking about gossip rags. Marcus is using this. He’s calling an emergency board vote. He wants you out of Knight Capital today.”
My pulse spikes—but not with fear.
With fury.
“He’s going after her to weaken me.”
“He doesn’t need to go after her,” Connor says, voice gentling. “The world is already doing it.”
Silence stretches.
Because he’s right. I can protect her from a man. But I can’t shield her from millions.
“We need a plan,” he says.
I glance back through the cracked bedroom door.
Sunny sleeps, body small in a sea of white sheets.
No. I need a plan.
Not to save my company.
To save us.
“I'll handle it,” I say, and hang up.
People have left me before. They always left first. That taught me to stay hard, stay cold, stay in control.
Sunny did the opposite.
She walked into my life crying in an elevator—and I have never felt more alive.
I walk back to her.
“Sunny,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter open. Still dazed. Still soft.
She smiles—small, tender. “Hi.”
The simplest greeting hits like a punch.
“Come with me,” I say.
“No makeup. No anything?”
“You're perfect,” I answer before I can censor it.
Color warms her cheeks.
The wind is sharp when we step out into the morning light atop my building. Manhattan stretches in every direction—cold, relentless, brilliant.
She shivers. I wrap my suit jacket around her shoulders.
The rooftop garden is still asleep—string lights unlit, flowers wilting under late-season chill.
But at the far end—the thing I had installed at dawn stands waiting.
A miniature carousel horse. White and gold. Hand-painted. Delicate.
Her breath catches. “Is that—?”
“You told me once—your happiest memory was riding a carousel with your mother,” I say. “You said you felt… free.”
She turns toward me—eyes glassy.
“You remembered that?”
“I remember everything you say,” I answer. “Even the things you think don’t matter.”
She walks toward the small display, fingertips brushing the painted mane like she’s afraid it will disappear.
“Why did you do this, Dylan?”
Because I’m in love with you—
The words choke at my teeth.
Instead, I say, “You deserve someone who gives you the world before you even ask for it.”
Her breath shakes. “That someone… could be you.”
It’s stupid how much that sentence nearly breaks me.
I step closer. My hand cups her cheek. Her breath stutters.
If I speak now, everything changes.
“I—”
My phone vibrates. Hard. Persistent.
She nods—giving me permission I didn’t earn.
I answer.
It’s Jenna. Her voice is a fist.
“Where the hell are you two?! Sunny needs to sit down before she sees this—”
“What?” I bark.
She inhales sharply.
“Mrs. Markham just issued a formal notice to the board. Effective immediately…”A pause, like she’s bracing herself. “Sunny is suspended from her teaching job. Pending review of her… ‘immoral public conduct.’”
The rooftop wind dies. Sunny’s world stops.
She looks up—tears already forming, like she knows without hearing.
“What happened?” she whispers.
I swallow hard.
“They’re trying to take your job,” I say. “Because of me.”
Her hand slips from mine.
Hope flickers out in her eyes.
And I realize—
I haven’t just become her safe place.
I’ve also become the weapon pointed at everything she loves.