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“Lila…” He scrubs a hand over his jaw, lowering his voice like that’ll make it all better. “Any man would be jealous hearing the woman he loves is living with another man. But yeah...you’re right. I don’t have the right. Not yet.”

He adds the last part like it means something. Like it’s supposed to move me.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Julian leans forward, raising his hands in mid-air for dramatic effect. “I’m not here to fight. I want to make things right. I’ve changed, peaches.”

I snort, and he catches it.

“Fine,” he sighs. “But can you believe me when I say I regret everything? I want to be better. For you. For our little girl.”

She’s not your little girl.

The words burnin my throat but never make it out.

He gestures to the menu. “Let’s start over. I’ll feed you. Then we talk.”

“You think a plate of steak will make up for everything?”

“No,” he smiles. “But it’s a start. What’ll you have, peaches?”

I end up ordering an arugula salad. That’s the last thing he’d poison if he had any ulterior motives.

The factthat I’m even questioning whether or not he’d poison my dinner makes my wolf shiver in indignation.

I feel sick for even being here.

Lina eats two reluctant forkfuls of the salad before she turns her eyes up to me again. Her voice is quiet but firm. “Mommy…I wanna go home now. Please.”

Home. Alaric might be home.

The thoughtof him being home, waiting, maybe worried, maybe angry...

The thought of him realizing I ditched Ethan, switched off my phone, left without a word...it burns like acid on my tongue.

He’ll seeit as betrayal.

Maybe it is betrayal.

Julian watches me eat when he thinks I’m not paying attention. His eyes linger too long on Lina. Then on me.

He looks like he’s already claimed us, like we’re his prize.

Like he can almost tastethe win.

I finish the salad in under ten minutes, more out of desire to try to keep this quick and less out of hunger.

I set my fork down and meet his gaze. “I ate, just like you wanted. Now it’s time for us to talk.”

Julian dabs the corners of his mouth with a linen napkin. His hands rest just inches from mine on the table, almost like he’s reaching for something that isn’t his anymore.

“Talk to me, peaches. Anything you want is yours. My attention. My time. And now that I’m divorced, you get to have me—”

“You said Lina was yours.”

My voice is raw.I cut my words down to avoid Lina catching on. “Suppose I believe that. Suppose I agree she’s your daughter. Would you do anything for her?”

“Without a fucking thought, baby.”