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How can I still feel like this after everything? After all this time? No matter the distance. No matter the time we’ve been apart. He’s always been embedded in my marrow, rotting me from the inside.

And maybe that’s the worst part of it. Because somehow I’ve always belonged to him, even when I wasn’t his anymore. But clearly he’s moved on, and maybe it’s time I do the same.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Konstantin watching us, a knowing glint in his eyes, his mouth tipping up just slightly.

I don’t have time to digest what that look means as Cillian leads me into the house, past busy staff and the hum of the party, but none of that registers. Only him. Only the feeling of his hand in mine, the heat between us that won’t ever die.

“Where’s the closest bathroom?” His words are rough, demanding, and it makes my pulse race even faster.

“Down the hall.”

He practically drags me down the corridor.

“Which one?” His tone is gruff, impatient, and it causes my pulse to hike up.

I point to the last door on the left, and he’s quick to open it, ushering us inside. The moment the door slams shut behind us, the small room feels suffocating with the heaviness of everything unsaid between us. His eyes roam my body—hungry, desperate—and I feel it on every inch of my skin.

A fist curls at his side.

“Where thehellhave you been?” His voice is tight, and there’s something almost painful in it.

“Oh, you know…” I cross my arms, but I don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on my chest. “Basking in the Italian sun, under a hot Italian or three.”

In an instant, he’s on me, pinning me to the wall, his fingers around my throat, and it feels like a brand. His jaw grinds, and I swallow hard, fighting the dizzying mix of anger and desire.

“That’s not funny, Dinara,” he growls.

“Right, because I’ve spent all this time pining over you like the sad little girl you left.”

His breath escapes in harsh, frustrated bursts.

“Guess what, baby?” My mouth curves. “In all this time, I didn’t think about you at all.”

His smirk is predatory. “Really? Not even once?”

His body presses into mine, and I let out a groan, aching for him already.

“Nope.”

“Then why the hell did you run? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

“Because I was having too much fun. Obviously.” I snicker.

His husky laugh shivers across my curves. “Don’t you know by now, a ghra? I know when you lie.”

I hate the way my skin prickles when he calls me that.

His full lips skim across mine, and I feel it everywhere, warmth cascading down my limbs. I shut my eyes, hating that I still want him after everything. He still looks just as good as I remember.

“You know nothing about me.” I hike up my chin. “We weren’t together long enough for you to know anything.”

When he pulls back, there’s a fury trapped in his eyes.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” His hand squeezes my throat, his cock hard against me. “You want to hate me, but you can’t. Can you, baby?”

“You wish.” I huff out a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m leaving.”

Pushing at his chest does nothing at all. He’s a brick, hard in all the right places.