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The question catches me off guard. For so long, I’d seen the OCU as my salvation. I’d never let myself daydream beyond it. But now, an old memory surfaces: Halle and I sitting outside a Ferrato’s, a bar near the docks, after a shift. We’d wanted our own place—a bar with classy cocktails and good music. Somewhere where the workers could be paid and treated well.

“I’d open a bar with Halle,” I say softly, a smile tugging at my lips. “A cool speakeasy. Maybe in a basement somewhere. We already have a name.”

“Tell me,” he says.

“Serene Tiger,” I laugh. “It’s silly, but we were kids.”

Rowan looks at me, eyes so warm I might melt. “No, I like it.”

I plant a quick kiss on his lips, just to distract myself from the moisture in my eyes. “Maybe one day.” I pat his cheek, sliding out of bed to reach for my phone on the floor, the glow of the screen illuminating a message from Halle. It’s a picture of her tarot cards, the gilded deck she only uses on special occasions.

Open your heart and you may be surprised.

I don’t miss the coincidence of that, but I choose to ignore it for now, slipping back into bed and into Rowan’s arms. I still don’t know where this is going,ifit’s going anywhere. Rowan Vasilyev has been raised a prince. He does not take what he’s given, he takes what he wants.

He wants me.

I want him too.

And I hope to God, I’ve not made a mistake.

Chapter Eighteen: Rowan

Iwake up just before the sun rises, the room bathed in the faint, golden glow of the lamp I forgot to turn off. Alex clings to me, his body pressed tightly against mine. His lips twitch slightly, his breath soft and steady. I should be exhausted after last night, but I’m strangely energized. Who needs Haze when Alexander Kimura exists?

Doubt whispers in the back of my mind—a quiet warning not to trust this, to brace for the inevitable flames. But I push it aside. From the moment I met him in that bar, I felt the pull, an inevitability that made resisting him impossible. I’ve always wanted Alex, but this time, I’m not running from it. I’ll do everything in my power to keep him.

Starting with ending all of this.

Carefully, I shift out of his grip. He murmurs something incoherent, his body momentarily tightening before sinking back into the pillow. I pause at the edge of the bed, my gaze lingering on him. I could watch him for hours, memorize the number of eyelashes he has, the way his hair falls over his forehead. Instead, I lean down, press a kiss to his temple, and remind myself there’s work to do.

Alex surfaces at eight, leaning against the doorway, shirtless with his black hair sticking up in wild directions. A sleepy smile tugs at his lips. Bruises and bite marks pepper his chest, a pleasant visual reminder of last night.

He’s beautiful, even in the morning with those high cheek bones and delicate features. My gaze catches on the tattoo over his heart, and a flicker of my untameable possessiveness rises up again.

“Hi. Um, good morning,” he says softly, his voice slightly hesitant.

“Hi,” I say, warmth spreading through me. “Good morning to you too.”

He lingers at the doorframe, leaning his head against the panel. There’s a wariness in his posture, a tension I can read immediately. I want to chase it away with my mouth, make him never doubt this or me again.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask.

“Good,” he says, his smile widening slightly. “Probably the best I’ve slept in a long time.”

“Helps when you come three times in one night.”

He laughs, the sound light and genuine. “So charming.”

“Come here,” I tell him.

For a moment, he hesitates, but then he steps inside. His bare feet pad across the hardwood and he moves behind the desk, sliding into my lap. The weight of him against me stirs something less than innocent inside me, but I push it down, keeping my hands on his hips as he leans in.

He cradles my face in his hands and kisses me, soft and teasing. It’s so like him, a mix of coyness and control, and I let him take the lead for a minute. Maybe it will soften the blow for what I’m about to say next.

“Hayden and Xander will be here in a few minutes,” I murmur against his mouth.

He pulls back abruptly, his eyes wide. “What?”