Chapter Twenty-Five
THE KIDS WERE asleep, soft breaths rising and falling like lullabies in the quiet. Zeke had gone downstairs to his work, and the house had fallen into stillness.
I looked around the small space, the chipped paint, the mismatched furniture, the hum of the old fridge in the next room, and smiled, just a little.
It was strange, really, how I could feel more at peace in this tiny, imperfect house than I ever had in Gabrial’s mansion.
That place had chandeliers, grand staircases, imported floors.
It shimmered from the outside like something out of a fairytale.
But inside, it was silence and edges sharp enough to bleed on. A cage dressed in gold.
This, though? This felt human. Real. Safe.
I thought about the kiss I’d shared with Zeke.
The first that hadn’t been stolen from me by a man I couldn’t stand to touch.
Gabrial had kissed me more times than I could count, each one leaving a layer of grime I could never quite wash off.
But Zeke… Zeke’s kiss had been different.
It stirred something I didn’t even have words for. Something warm. Terrifying. Good.
Maybe that’s why I acted on impulse.
I rose without thinking, quietly opened the basement door, and stepped onto the creaking stairs. The air shifted as I descended—cooler, tinged with the smell of old wood, mildew, smoke, sweat. Voices hummed below, chips clinked, glass hit glass. Sin breathed down here, thick and alive.
I didn’t belong.
But I needed to see him.
I slipped through the shadows of the gambling house, keeping to the edges, past poker tables and the low sprawl of barstools. Music drifted lazy, bass heavy. Men cursed. Dice rattled. It all blurred, background noise to the single thought pounding in my head: find him.
A man caught my eye, tall, graying hair, a patch stitched across his cut that matched Zeke’s. Horse.
He studied me for a beat, head tilting. “You lost, sweetheart?”
“I’m looking for Zeke… Thunder.”
Something softened in his eyes, just for a breath. “Office. End of the hall, left side.”
“Thank you.”
I moved quick, past murmured voices and closed doors. The farther I went, the quieter it got, until the silence pressed tight, like it was warning me to turn back. The door at the end bore the word OFFICE, letters cracked and peeling.
It was cracked open.
I heard her voice first—sweet, sultry. “You miss me, baby?”
Then his. Gravel-edged. Low. Intimate.
My stomach twisted. The ground shifted beneath me. My fingers trembled as I pushed the door wider.
And there they were.
She was straddling him, draped across his lap like she belonged there.
Her hands on his shoulders, her mouth grazing the line of his jaw.
Zeke’s hands rested on her waist, not pulling her in, not pushing her off, just…
there. His head tipped back, his eyes locked on hers.
For one second, he’d allowed it. Allowed her. Allowed himself.
He wasn’t kissing her.
But he wasn’t stopping her either.
And that was enough.
My breath rushed out like I’d been punched. The door creaked against my hand, loud in the silence.
They both turned.
His eyes found mine. Widened. Shock. Guilt.
“Sable—”
I didn’t wait.
I turned, heart slamming, the hall tilting under my feet. His voice might’ve followed. His boots might’ve hit the floor. But all I heard was the thunder in my own ears, beating a single rhythm: you were never enough.
I hit the stairs, nearly stumbling, and shoved the basement door closed behind me with a hollow slam.
The house was too quiet. Too still. I pressed my back to the wall, staring at the floorboards like they might tell me why I’d been stupid enough to hope.
Of course. Of course he wouldn’t choose someone like me. Not when he had someone like her—beautiful, bold, confident. The kind of woman the guards used to sneak off with when Gabrial was away.
I was just a broken thing he felt sorry for. A stray he’d taken in out of guilt. A project.
Why had I let myself believe this was different? That he was different?
My vision swam. I told myself I wouldn’t cry.
I lied.