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"But I don't know how to be that man. I am Edward Grosvenor—the heir, the lawyer, the perfect son. I don't know who I am without those titles, and I'm terrified that if I strip them all away for you, there won't be anything left worth loving."
Something shifted in her expression—not forgiveness, but understanding. "Your Mother said I was everything your family needed protection from."
"My Mother fears anything she can't control. And you, Lili Anderton, are entirely uncontrollable."
"Is that bad?"
"It's terrifying." I moved closer, drawn by something stronger than logic. "It's also the most beautiful thing I've ever encountered."
She studied my face for a long moment, searching for deception, for calculation, for any trace of the manipulation Mother had accused me of.
"I don't know how to trust you," she whispered finally.
"Then don't trust me. Trust this." I reached for her hands, feeling the tremor that ran through her at the contact. "Trust what happens when we're together. Trust the way you feel when I look at you, the way your breath changes when I touch you."
Her eyes searched mine, and I could see the exact moment when the wall she'd built around her heart began to crack. Not crumble—that would take time—but show the first hairline fractures that let light seep through.
"Edward..."
"I know I've handled this badly. I know I should have told you in the first place instead of hoping I could fix everything. But I need you to know—whatever happens with the acquisition, whatever my Mother said, what I feel for you is real."
The space between us seemed to crackle with electricity. I clocked the second her anger began to transform into something else—something dangerous and desperate and absolutely essential.
"This is insane," she breathed.
"Completely."
"Your career—"
"Will survive or it won't."
"Your family—"
"Can learn to adjust."
"The acquisition—"
"Is tomorrow's problem."
She looked up at me then, really looked at me, and I could see she had made her choice. Not forgiveness—but a decision to trust the connection between us despite every rational reason not to.
"Cece," she said without breaking eye contact with me, "would you mind giving us some privacy?"
I heard Cece's sharp intake of breath. "Lili, are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
The silence stretched taut as a wire between us. I could see Cece weighing her options—stay and protect her friend or trust that sometimes the most dangerous choice was also the right one?
After a moment's hesitation, Cece gathered her things. "If he hurts you again," she said to me in passing, "I know where to hide the body."
"Noted," I replied, my attention entirely focused on the woman in front of me.
When we were alone, the air between us felt charged with possibility and peril in equal measure.
"What happens now?" Lili asked.
"I don't know." I cupped her face in my hands, thumbs tracing the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I only know that walking away from you isn't an option anymore."