Chapter 27
Tate
A week passed before I saw Stella again.
Seven days of silence. Seven days of staring at my phone, composing messages I never sent, deleting words that never felt right.
Seven days of telling myself that stepping back was the noble thing to do—and seven nights of lying awake, haunted by the image of her curled in that trunk, bound and helpless, waiting for a rescue that might have come too late.
The hard truth was this: for all my confidence in the field, for all my ability to assess threats and neutralize danger, I had no idea how to reach out to the woman I’d fallen in love with.
Because that’s what this was. Love. The real thing—not infatuation, not just attraction, not the comfortable affection I’d settled for in past relationships.
This was the kind of feeling that rewired your entire nervous system, that made you understand why people did reckless things, why they risked everything for another person.
And it fucking terrified me.
My offer of financial support still stood.
The business plan was solid, the numbers made sense, and I believed in her talent more than I’d ever believed in any investment.
But now that the danger had passed, now that Siobhan was in custody and the Hayward family could return to their normal lives, I knew Stella would want to move forward and build her future.
And that future probably didn’t include a man like me—a man with darkness in his past, and one who didn’t fit into her world.
I sat in my apartment, nursing a beer I didn’t really want, and tried to make sense of the war raging inside me.
On one side was every logical reason to stay away. Charles and Celeste’s disapproval and my own worries that I wasn’t good enough for someone like Stella.
On the other side, her. Stella, who challenged me and knocked down those emotional walls I’d always been so good at erecting. A woman who’d seen the darkest parts of me and hadn’t flinched.
She made me want to be a better man for her. More open. More willing to take risks with my heart, and my future. With her.
For the first time in my life, I’d found someone who made me believe that the broken parts of me might not be disqualifying. That maybe, just maybe, I deserved something more than the solitary existence I’d accepted as my fate.
And I knew, without any doubts, that if there was one woman in this world I wanted to fight for, it was Stella.
The knowledge was like a weight lifting off me, rather than pressing down. All this time, I’d been so focused on whether I was good enough for her that I’d never stopped to ask a different question: what if walking away from her was the real failure?
What if protecting her didn’t mean removing myself from her life, but rather staying in it?
Being there for the challenges ahead, the family drama, the business struggles, the inevitable obstacles that would arise?
What if the bravest thing I could do wasn’t to step back out of her life—but to step forward into it?
I set down my beer, my mind suddenly clear.
I was done running from this. Done letting fear make my decisions. Stella had shown me what courage looked like when she’d stood up to her family, when she’d refused to let them dictate her future. The least I could do was match that courage with my own.
And I realized, for the first time in my life, I was going to fight for something I couldn’t live without because I deserved it, and her.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I frowned, not expecting anyone. I crossed to the door, still riding the momentum of my newfound resolution and already composing what I’d say to Stella when I finally worked up the nerve to call her.
I opened the door, and there she was, as though my thoughts had conjured her.
Stella stood in the building corridor, looking like she’d stepped out of a dream.
She wore a flowing skirt in a soft shade of purple, paired with a silk blouse the color of champagne, delicate gold jewelry in her ears and a necklace around her throat catching the light.
Her gorgeous blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her eyes—those devastating blue eyes—looked up at me with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
She was so beautiful it hurt.
And in that moment, I became painfully aware of the contrast between us. My sparse apartment behind me, furnished with the bare minimum. My worn jeans and faded T-shirt. All my rough edges compared to her soft, effortless grace.
We came from different worlds. That hadn’t changed. But looking at her now, I realized something else hadn’t changed either—the way she made me feel. The way she looked at me. Not like a man defined by his past. Just Tate. The man she’d always believed in.
“Hi.” She smiled, soft and tentative. “Can I come in?”
I stepped aside without a word, too stunned at seeing her to form a coherent response. She walked past me, a faint floral scent trailing after her, and I closed the door behind us with hands that weren’t entirely steady.
Reaching the living room, Stella turned to face me, clasping her hands in front of her. An anxious gesture, I realized. She was just as nervous as I was.
“How are you?” I asked her, searching her face.
“Actually, I’m doing pretty well, all things considered.” She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I’m here because I wanted to talk. To see where we stand.”
“Stella—”
“Let me finish. Please,” she said, holding up a hand to stop me.
“I’m moving out on my own, without my parents co-signing a lease.
I don’t have all the details figured out yet, but I know I’ll find a way.
If this situation taught me anything, it’s that I won’t let fear keep me trapped anymore—not in a house, not in a fake relationship, not in a life that doesn’t feel like it’s genuinely mine. ”
I waited, my heart hammering against my ribs, just listening as she’d asked.
“I ended things with Oliver,” she went on. “Officially. Not that there was much to end—you know the arrangement was never real—but I wanted it to be clear. To him, to my family, to everyone.” Her eyes met mine. “To you.”
Relief flooded through me, so intense it nearly buckled my knees. “I’m glad.”
“Are you?” She stepped closer, searching my face. “Because you’ve been impossible to read, Tate. One minute you’re looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, and the next you’re pulling away, putting up walls, acting like what happened between us was some kind of mistake.”
I couldn’t blame her. I had sent those mixed signals. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
“Then why did you leave?” she asked, a soft ache in her voice. “Why haven’t you called?”
The questions hung in the air between us, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I knew how to give.
I ran a hand through my hair, struggling to find the words.
“Because I thought it was the right thing to do,” I said, for so many reasons I didn’t need to rehash, because they no longer mattered.
“You and I…we live in completely different worlds. And I’ve got this darkness in me that doesn’t go away just because I want it to, even though I do my best to keep it contained. ”
“I know.” Her voice was quiet, almost accepting.
“And it truly doesn’t bother you?” I had to know.
“What bothers me is you deciding for both of us that it should.” She closed the remaining distance between us, tilting her head back to hold my gaze, looking so adorably stubborn and defiant.
“I’m not naive, Tate. I understand that you carry scars I can’t see, and that there are parts of your past shaped by your father’s violence.
But I also understand that you’re the man who made me feel safe when I was terrified.
The man who believed in my dreams when my own family didn’t.
The man who ran through a junkyard in the desert heat, screaming my name, because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing me. ”
My throat tightened. “Stella...”
“That’s the man I want, Tate.” Tears glistened in her eyes, but her voice didn’t waver.
“All of him. The darkness and the light. The protector and the man with those depraved desires that I actually like. I’m not asking you to be perfect.
I’m asking you to be mine. The rest we’ll figure out together. ”
Something cracked open inside my chest, the last of my defenses crumbling to dust. I reached for her, cupping her face in my hands, marveling at the way she leaned into my touch without hesitation.
“I stayed away because I thought you deserved better,” I said roughly. “Someone who fit better into your life than I ever could.”
“That’s not what I want.” Her hands came up to cover mine. “I want to build my own life. With you.”
I groaned, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. “Your parents will never accept this.”
“And I don’t give a damn because it’s not their life to live. It’s mine.” A hint of steel entered her voice. “I spent twenty-six years trying to be the daughter they wanted. I’m done. From now on, I’m going to be the woman I want to be. And that woman chooses you, every single time.”
“I choose you, too,” I said, meaning it, my voice rough with emotion. “I’m going to be there for you, every goddamn day. Not just as an investor. Not just as a bodyguard. But as the man who loves you.”
Her breath caught and her eyes widened. “You... you love me?”
“Yeah.” I stroked my thumbs across her cheekbones, catching the tears that had begun to fall. “I love you, Stella Hayward. I think I’ve loved you since that night in the kitchen when I told you about my father, and you told me I deserved better.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It does.” I leaned my forehead against hers. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever comes next—your store, your family, all of it—we face it together. I promise you that.”