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But instead of answering, he strides away toward the room, leaving me to descend the staircase with sleep-thick eyes and piqued curiosity.

Pace wasn’t wrong though.

I do find it.

It’s hard to miss the strange, eerie glow coming from the main downstairs corridor, not to mention the strains of classical music echoing down the hall. I follow it with a thread of worry, the train of my silk robe dragging behind me. It isn’t until I get closer that I realize it’s coming from the ballroom.

Stepping inside, I freeze.

The chandeliers are dark, but the tall candelabras glowing with fire around the cavernous room still catch the crystals, flinging glitter along the dance floor. Candles upon candles. There must be hundreds of them, both tall and stout, wide and slender. They cast everything in a warm, flickering light that reaches all the way to the dark corners.

And in the middle of the room, Lex is rising from his seat at a small, round table.

I blink furiously, becauseoh. Of course this is a dream.

I’ve had weirder.

I mean, he’s in a tux and everything.

Lex adjusts the lapels of his suit, clearing his throat. “You always get a carb craving at two.” His hair is down again, auburn tones reflecting the sparkling candlelight like embers.

I don’t feel like I can really be blamed for not noticing the food on the table, although when I do, a laugh escapes my throat. I capture it with my palm, covering my mouth. “Okay, now Iknowthis is a dream.”

He’s too far away to hear his exhale, but I see it, his shoulders inching down a notch. “Yeah?” He rocks back on his heels, right before barreling around to the other side of the table. “Here, let me…” Grabbing the back of the chair, he pulls it out.

For me.

I approach the table in a haze, thinking my imagination is pretty good.

It’s only when I get closer that I see the dark circles under Lex’s eyes, the tinge of strain in his features, and the way he holds himself so stiffly.

My smile falls. “Oh,” I realize, glancing down at the covered platter. “Not a dream.”

After a beat, Lex’s stilted voice confesses, “Afraid not.”

I still lower myself into the seat, eyes narrowed at the display in front of me. “What is this?”

“This?” he asks, reaching for the silver lid. He pulls it off with a flourish. “This is mint chocolate chip. And this…” He points to a box beside it, pushing it closer to me. “This is a gift. From all of us.”

Lex has let me have real ice cream only once—the day after he saved Nick Bruin. And I had to hear about it for a week afterward. The box, small and made of black velvet, is wrapped in a red satin bow.

Maybe it’s unfair, but I just hear Tommy’s voice in my head.

“She’s East End. They all want to be bought.”

“Are you sure it isn’t bribery?” I look up at him, arching a brow. “Because it’s going to take a lot more than ice cream and jewelry to buy me off.”

Lex’s face falls. “I’m not trying tobuy—” But his words cut off and he mutters a curse, raking his hair back with a harried expression. “You know what, you’re right. This was fucking stupid. You can go back to bed.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion on his face, or the dejected set of his shoulders, or the way everything about the setting looks sointentional, as if he and Pace had lit every single candle themselves.

And I know they did.

It’s why I reach out before he can storm off, clasping my fingers around his wrist. “Sit down,” I sigh. “Tell me what this is all about.”

He gives me an exasperated look but obeys, sitting across from me all slumped and sad-looking. “Verity, I’m not good at this.”

I unwrap the utensils. “You put the spoon in and grab a scoop.”