Chapter 8
CAYDEN
The Bentley glides silently away from the airport. In the rearview mirror, the fog swallows the Montreal skyline as Henry drives us west.
The tension in the back is physical. Jade presses herself against the leather door as if she might jump out at eighty kilometers per hour. She stares at the passing trees, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.
Parker, however, is glued to the window. He’s soaking it in. The massive estate walls, the oak alleys, the distant glimmer of the Lake of Two Mountains. He is pure curiosity, and every time I look at him, my stomach hits with a dull, painful thud I don't want to name.
“Henry, please take us straight to my apartment,” Jade’s voice finally breaks the silence. “Parker has school tomorrow, and I need to organize my notes.”
I don't look up. I keep scrolling through an email I’ve been staring at for five minutes. “Henry takes you exactly where I tell him to.”
“I don’t live in a palace, and I have a responsibility to my son,” she shoots back. There’s no fear in her words, just raw anger. “He has classes. He can't just camp in your guest room because you need to flex your control issues.”
I lock my screen. “He will go to school. Henry will drive him every morning and pick him up. Every minute he isn't in class, he’s on my estate. If you’re shadowing me for thirty days, Jade, it’s on my terms. I’m not wasting time chasing you through Montreal traffic because of your pride.”
“This borders on kidnapping,” she hisses, careful not to upset Parker.
“This is a signed contract,” I correct. “If you’d read it, you’d know you owe me unrestricted access. That clause works both ways.”
As we turn through the massive iron gates of my driveway, Parker lets out a gasp.
I watch him from the corner of my eye. He sees the sprawling main house, the glass fronts, the massive training rink in the back.
It’s the first time I’ve seen my estate through a child’s eyes.
The architecture looks even more oppressive, like a silent guard swallowing every intruder.
Henry stops the car at the portal. My staff emerges from the shadows. One man takes Jade’s suitcase—a sad, plastic thing with a zipper that scrapes as he lifts it. In the gloved hands of my staff, it looks entirely out of place.
“Welcome to another world, Miss Sterling,” I mutter, adjusting my collar as I get out.
The foyer greets us with sterile grandeur—polished stone, indirect light, the hard echo of our steps.
“Helena will show you to your quarters,” I say, pointing to my housekeeper. I need distance. The jet, the fight, the tension—it’s grating on my nerves like sandpaper. “You have the east wing on the fourth floor. Bedroom, office, everything is there. I expect you in the dining hall in one hour.”
I don't wait for her answer. I head for my study. Behind me, I hear Parker make an excited sound—Helena probably mentioned a gaming console—followed by Jade’s sharp, frustrated inhale.
In my darkened study, I head straight for the globe that hides my decanters. I pour a heavy finger of Scotch. The alcohol burns, numbing my throat, but it doesn't slow my mind. I drop into my chair and stare at the files.
Why the hell am I doing this? Why force her into my territory?
I could tell myself it’s about control. But the truth is uglier. I want her close so I can figure out why she looks at me with that mix of pity and contempt. Why she built a wall between us thicker than the foundation of this villa.
Jade Sterling thinks she knows my true face. She thinks I’m an ungrateful, hardened bastard.
Fine. If she wants a monster, she can have one.
I drain the glass in one shot and slam it onto the wood. The game just started, and this time, I set the rules.