Chapter 3
Chapter Three
CALLUM/CASH
A Week & A Half Before Now
A Haunted House & Deep-seated Terror
She says it’s hers, but I’m waiting for the guy who owns it to jump out and slit my throat for trying to win what he thinks is his.
“My fascination?” I drag my fingers through my hair while my mind races through memories of seeing her with a man in this very space. It makes my chest burn. “I guess I’m just impressed. This place must have cost a fortune.”
The truth sits on my tongue like acid. I wanna demand she explain why she’s standing in this kitchen, pretending she owns a house that belongs to some faceless bastard who made it impossible to find the records.
I wanna tell her I’ve seen her here before, spinning in the fucking driveway like she was dancing for someone who made her feel like the center of the universe.
But I can’t. Because admitting I followed her here would make me sound like the obsessive stalker I’ve apparently become.
When she sent the address and I realized where it was, I nearly toppled over in shock. I’ve been on edge ever since.
This is the home where she’s rolled around in a bed with a man I almost lost her to. It reeks of their shared intimacy, and I wanna burn it to the ground.
She doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead, she busies herself arranging the lilies to her liking. “I don’t want to talk about this property when we can be at a nice restaurant, sitting in the area where we can watch the ocean tide crash against the sand as the sun sets.”
The flowers look perfect against the white quartz, black and white petals creating stark beauty against the coastal luxury that screams serious money and more power than I’ll ever have.
“You’re right. Let’s get out of here and celebrate your new partnership.” I gesture toward the door. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”
Her shoulders relax, and she smiles at me. “Thanks. You look great, as always.”
My hands clench into fists inside my pockets as I glance around the space with fresh eyes. This home is designed for two people who cook together and share morning coffee while watching the sunrise over the Pacific.
I’ve gotta leave before I say something stupid, so I focus on her beauty. “You’re different from how I remember.”
“How so?”
“Softer.” I step close enough to smell her perfume mixing with the salt air drifting through the windows. “When we were younger, you always dressed like you were ready for battle. Like you expected the world to take a swing at you.”
“Maybe because it usually did.” She turns to face me fully, and the sadness in her blue eyes makes my heart ache. “But you’re right. I’m trying to be gentler with myself these days.”
“It suits you.” I trace my thumb along her jawline, and she doesn’t pull away. “This gentle version of you is nice. Though I have to admit, I kinda miss the girl who used to wear combat boots with sundresses just to piss off your ma.”
Livianna’s giggle is genuine, the first real one I’ve heard from her since she returned to my life at Coachella.
She sways toward the front door. “Those boots are in a closet somewhere in storage. Maybe I’ll break them out again sometime.”
“Promise?” I follow her, thankful to be leaving this place and hopeful we can get back to where we once were, only better.
“Maybe.” She grabs her purse off the coffee table in the living room. “But it’s going to be a while.”
“Just as long as I’m there when you do.” I open the door, step out, and hold out my hand.
She blushes and freezes. Her smile falters, like she just remembered something, then she glances up.
I track her gaze. There’s a security camera tucked into the corner of the overhang. It’s tiny. I wouldn’t have known it was there if she hadn’t looked that way.
He’s watching, and that gives me an idea. “Take my hand, Lily. Let me show you I can be a gentleman.”
She hesitates, but then she does. “You’re pulling out all the stops, huh?”
“Every day until you tell me you don’t want me to.”
She must have suspected her mystery man could see her, but she took my hand anyway. My heart soars.
Maybe she is ready to move on. Maybe she wants him to know she’s with me. I want both to be true.
I weave my fingers with hers and lead her to my car. “If someone told me five years ago I’d be taking Livianna Hemings to dinner at Nobu, I would’ve laughed in their face.”
“Why?”
“Because I was too fucked up to deserve five minutes of your time, let alone an entire evening.” I tighten my grip. “And because I wasn’t sure I’d get a second chance to do right by you.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?” I open the car door for her.
She stops and stares warmly into my eyes. “That we should stop talking about the past. Let’s agree to move forward. If there’s anything we need to address about our history, we can discuss it then. But for now, I just want to live in the moment.”
“I love that idea. You always were the smart one out of us.”
“You’re smart too, Callum. You just never gave yourself the credit.” She gets on her tiptoes and presses her lips to my cheek.
I never wanna wash my face again. She slips inside my speedster, and I shut the door. I round the front of my car and glance at that damn camera.
Everything in me wants to flash my teeth and flip it off, telling the fucking man who stole a piece of Livianna’s heart I’ve won, but I don’t. Even I know that would be the kiss of death.
The hostess leads us to a corner table with ocean views, away from the main dining area. I pull out Lily’s chair before sitting across from her as she takes in the candlelit room as if she’s memorizing every detail she’ll never admit she notices.
“You’re full of surprises tonight.” She smooths her napkin across her lap. “First the flowers, now actual manners.”
“Ah, come on, vixen. I’ve always had manners.”
“You have, but sometimes…” She studies my face, then she releases a deep sigh. “Things were never easy for us, were they?”
“Falling in love was easy.”
“That part was. It was all the other stuff that got in the way.”
The server interrupts before I can respond, probably for the best. We don’t need to start off so heavy.
After we order, I lean back and focus on what matters. Her.
“So, Marcus Chen. Tell me everything. How did that even happen?”
“Honestly? Blind ambition and some luck. I’d been working on this presentation for a while, trying to figure out how to scale internationally without losing what makes the brand special.”
“Which is what, exactly? I mean, I know you’re talented, but what makes Lehlani Rose different?”
She pulls back, wide-eyed at the question. Good. I want her to see that I’m paying attention, that this isn’t just small talk.
“The clothes aren’t just fashion. They’re designed for women who’ve been through something and survived it.
Every piece has built-in hidden strength, reinforced seams, pockets for essentials, fabrics that move with you rather than restrict you, all while making her feel sexy and radiant.
She’s meant to shine and be remembered.”
“Armor disguised as beauty in honor of your twin.”
“Exactly. How did you know?”
“Because Guns told me. And I know you. Everything you create comes from something heartfelt.” I signal the server.
This moment deserves champagne. When the bottle arrives, I pour her a glass and lift my soda.
Instead of some grand toast, I keep it simple. “To the strongest woman I know, who’s built something beautiful from all the hurtful secrets she dealt with in the past.”
“Thank you for recognizing that.” Her eyes fill with tears, and my chest expands.
I did that. I made her feel seen.
“Callum, who are you now?”
“I’m a man still trying to earn the right to sit across from you.” The confession lands heavier than I planned, but I don’t take it back.
She shifts in her seat, the ocean’s glow mirrored in her eyes. “You’re too much sometimes.”
“Only because you’re worth too much.” I get lost in her beauty and the faint glow of appreciation in her gaze.
The flare of a camera flash from outside jolts me back to reality. Another. And another. My jaw tightens as the rage unravels.
“Are you kidding me?” I push my chair back, ready to storm outside. “They can’t even let us have a meal—”
“Callum…” Her hand finds mine, firm enough to root me in place. “Don’t. I’ve been their target for half my life. You brought me on stage in front of the world, and they want the scoop.”
“They’ve always interfered with our lives, and it needs to stop.”
“It won’t, so let’s deal with it.” She grows a mischievous smile. “Let’s enjoy dinner, and then I’ll give them something to write about on our way out.”
I rest back. “You got a plan, huh?”
“I do, but I’d rather focus on us for now.”
Us.
One word, and so much surrounding it.
Can we get back to us? Is there a second chance for us?
It’s too early to know, but the food is served. We talk about life, and it’s nothing compared to the excitement of rediscovering each other.
The conversation is clumsy in places, like we’re relearning the melody. Then it’s seamless again, like we never lost the rhythm.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin. “You sound good…happy. It’s nice.”
“Today, I definitely am.”
“What’s different about today?”
“You’re here. For the first time in five years, I’m sitting across from you having dinner, and you’re not running away.”
“But I’m not making any promises.”
“Understood. I’m just grateful for right now.” All I can focus on is the way she looks in the candlelight, softer than I remember but no less beautiful.
“Callum, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“The therapy thing. What made you decide to try it?”
I take a drink of my water. “You really wanna know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. You knew it didn’t work for me, so I’m curious.”
“Fair point.” I pause for a beat or two. “I almost OD’d. Woke up in the hospital, and Guns was there crying. Not just regular crying, like ugly sobbing. I realized that if I died, it wouldn’t just be me. It would destroy him and my other mates.”