Chapter 17
Titus POV
The jewels sparkled under the light as I examined the new setting for my mother’s heirloom.
The original piece was nearly destroyed after being thrown into the fire.
Though Bianca never mentioned it, I could sense she was upset.
She wouldn’t have tried so desperately to save it otherwise, even while injured.
And she wouldn’t continue to look at me with such guilt.
I wasn’t angry—disappointed that the original gold was lost, sure—but far from blaming her. Yet, bringing it up without a solution would only make her anxious. Reassurances alone wouldn’t suffice. Bianca wasn’t the type to accept words at face value.
I needed a different approach.
“Titus?”
Her voice cut through my concentration, and I turned, dropping the ring. We were in my garage—my space, since no one else cared about cars beyond driving them .
Bianca stood in the doorway, shuffling nervously as she watched me. The fact that I hadn’t noticed her entrance was… unsettling.
“Bianca?” Embarrassment tinged my voice. “When did you get in here?”
Miles was retreating to the main part of the house. He must have brought her. Bryce was still practicing his fighting forms in the adjacent workroom, his movements uninterrupted. He hadn’t heard his sister.
“Just now…” She sounded unsure, stepping into the room and biting her lip. “Can I talk to you?”
A sense of foreboding twisted in my gut at the hesitation in her voice, and my instincts stirred at the fear in her eyes. There was no reason for her to ever look at me like that.
My gift to her was still in plain view on the table, and I quickly covered it with an unused cloth. I faced her and crossed my arms. “Is something wrong?” Why would Miles bring her here? I thought she didn’t like messes.
“I’m not…” she began, but her attention drifted to the table. My heart raced as she asked, “What are you working on?”
“Nothing.” I struggled to keep my voice calm. There was only one way out of this now—one tactic. She was too focused, too intense.
“No.” She frowned. “It was something.”
I had to distract her. Before I knew it, I’d crossed the room, pulling her to me and turning away from the table. But now what? I couldn’t just kiss her. I needed to divert her attention, not terrify her.
“Is that Damen’s Jaguar?” she asked—her focus had already moved on.
I blinked, my nervous energy fading as interest piqued at the sudden gleam in her eyes. It felt as though she was judging me .
“Why did you rip apart Damen’s car?” She was frowning at the disassembled engine.
She was judging me!
“That’s my car.” Not that it mattered. I had ripped apart Damen’s car more than once. “Mine is darker.”
“You have one, too?” she asked, squinting at the vehicle. “I thought you had a Range Rover. And that Harley. Though, I couldn’t place the model.” She shivered, and guilt rushed over me. Was she recalling our first meeting?
I’d never misjudged a situation so badly in my life.
I would give almost anything to go back and redo that moment. But for now, this worked to distract her. She seemed to know a bit about this topic and paid enough attention to remember the vehicle models. “Are you interested in cars?”
She blinked, turning her attention to me.
“Not building them or anything…” she muttered, gesturing around the room. “But I like looking.”
“Really?” I asked. It was surprising that she was interested in this topic. However, it did seem like her family had various fascinations with fast vehicles.
Caleb Weaver had been a mechanic once. Meanwhile, Gregory Stephens and Declan Dubois both collected vintage cars. Then there was Bryce, who had a fondness for gambling at races. He wasn’t responsible with his money and lost more often than he won.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I can imagine what I want! I’m not hurting anyone.”
I raised an eyebrow, wary now. “Imagine what?”
She covered her eyes, the scent of panic filling the room.
“Princess.” I pulled her hands from her face, my mouth drying at her embarrassed expression. How could I make her happy? “ What are you imagining? Would you like to take a drive in the Rover? If you want me to buy you a car, I—”
“No.” The redness faded from her cheeks. “I don’t care about passenger cars. They’re boring.” Her gaze drifted toward my modest bike collection across the room.
A sense of foreboding filled me, and it became harder to breathe. “You want a motorcycle?”
“They seem fun,” she said.
“But…” My mind raced. While the thought of riding together excited me, she might get hurt. It made no sense—she feared so many harmless things, but not this?
“Aren’t you afraid?” I asked.
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Why would I be afraid?”
I pulled at my hair, thrilled yet baffled by her fearlessness. How had she reached this conclusion?
“In any case, a bike wouldn’t be practical for all your needs,” I finally said. “You should still get your license first. It might be more difficult for you to commute to school on a bike—or go shopping.”
Guilt twisted across her expression, and my mind raced back over my words. Had I said something wrong? I didn’t think so.
“I’m quitting school.”
I blinked at her wide-eyed expression and pulled at my ear. Did she say… But hadn’t she threatened to beat up Miles for missing class?
He had been so scared. It was hilarious.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“I’m going to t-t-take off for the rest of the s-s-semester,” she stuttered through the words. “I don’t k-k-know what I want to do anymore.” Her voice washed away my disbelief, and a sudden seething anger burned in my chest.
It was the sound of her fear .
None of us had missed her occasional stuttering. We’d ignored it for now, not wanting to make assumptions, but once Julian had access to Bianca’s medical records and we’d spoken to Finn, some questions had been answered.
Bianca’s stuttering had developed when she was young, most likely due to the trauma she lived through before Abigail found her. Trinity noted that Bianca improved with speech therapy. However, it could be triggered when she wasn’t focusing or when she was thrown back into a negative mindset.
Her hearing, too, was a remnant of that time—Trinity had noted that the likely cause was an extensive head injury.
I struggled to keep my expression neutral as conflicting instincts tugged at me—vengeance and the need for comfort. I’d never felt like this before.
In all my lifetimes loving Mu, detachment came easily when duty called, but Bianca was different. She was Mu reborn, yet fundamentally changed in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Why are you upset?” I asked, pulling her close.
“Are you angry?” she asked, burying her face in my chest instead of answering.
My arms tightened around her shoulders, and I pushed her back to see her face. “Why would I be angry?”
“Because everyone says you’re really smart.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “But I can’t focus anymore. Everything feels overwhelming, and I don’t know what to do.”
The weight of her words sank in. I could sense the conflict within her—the pressure she put on herself to live up to expectations, the fear of disappointing those around her. But she didn’t realize that none mattered to me, not when she was struggling like this.
“Bianca, look at me,” I said gently, tilting her chin so our eyes met. “I’m not angry at you. I don’t care about the lectures or what anyone else thinks. What matters is you—what you need, what will make you feel better.”
She searched my eyes as if trying to find a hint of disappointment or judgment. But I wasn’t going to give her any reason to doubt me.
“If you need time off from school, take it. It’s okay,” I continued, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “No one is going to hold it against you. Least of all me.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied. “We just want you to be happy.”
Her skin flushed, and my mouth went dry. What else could I do?
“Hey,” I began. The others would mock me for this, but she’d seemed so excited.
“What about if we go out and look at motorcycles? Is there a particular one you’re thinking of?
” When she didn’t respond, I added, “I’ll put it on your tab.
” This seemed to be the only way she’d accept money.
Hopefully she wasn’t keeping a close accounting, because of course we had no intention of taking money from her later.
“Okay then!” The tears cleared as she looked at me, and she nodded, determined. “I want a sidecar rig!”
“A…” I lowered my hand as shock filled me. “What?”
Surely she didn’t mean…
“I’ve been wanting to do sidecar racing for years!” Why did she sound so excited at this—of all things? “It’ll be fun.”
Fun…
I wasn’t so sure about that. Of all the things she could’ve been interested in, I’d never expected this. Although to be fair, I probably should have. Brayden was already heavily involved in the sport.
“Sidecar racing?” I repeated, hoping I’d misheard. But the eager look in her eyes told me I hadn’t. “You’ve really looked into this?”
She nodded, her expression glowing. It was rare to see her this animated, and while I wanted to encourage it, the idea of her doing this made my stomach churn.
“Yeah! I’ve watched videos and read about the techniques—it looks amazing!”
I swallowed hard, my mind spinning. How could Finn not have warned us?
The last thing I wanted was to let her down, but the thought of her on a bike, even in a sidecar, was enough to make me second-guess everything. “Bianca… are you sure this is something you want to do?”
“Absolutely!” she said with a nod. “I know I’ll love it. Besides, if you drive, I’ll feel safe.”
I felt my resolve waver, caught between wanting to make her happy and the instinct to protect her from anything that could put her at risk. “I just… I don’t know if it’s the best idea,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s dangerous, Bianca.”