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That was my first mistake.
Because now it’s fucked with my company.
But more than that—it touched Amelia.
It was used to shake her, to make her question herself.
That’s the line in the sand. The last fucking line.
And whoever crossed it is about to learn what I do to people who aim for what’s mine.
My second mistake?
Not making sure James Kensington stayed the fuck away after the first time I saw Amelia flinch at his name.
I swipe open the secure folder on my phone. The one I built the day I realized he might become a problem worth solving.
Photos. Documents. Financials. Quiet witnesses. The kind of rot you only find if you know where to look.
I’ve held back. Waited. Given him chances he didn’t deserve.
For her.
But today, he made it war.
And I don’t lose wars.
29
Amelia
I wake up in Gage’s arms the morning after James ripped my soul apart and try to remember what steady feels like, but everything inside me still feels scrambled. My body is here, safe and warm against his, but the rest of me is somewhere else. My thoughts won’t settle. My heart keeps kicking like it’s waiting for another blow. And no matter how tightly Gage holds me, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that something inside me cracked wide open yesterday and hasn’t closed yet.
I’ve untangled most of the bullshit he tried to spin—the gaslighting, the insults, the way he made me feel small on purpose. I see it for what it was now. But what’s still crawling under my skin is the threat he left behind. The quiet, calculated promise that he’ll take Sarah if I don’t prove I’m a good enough mother. That’s the part I can’t shake. Not because I believe him about being a bad mother, but because I know what a man like James is capable of when he wants control—and because I’ve seen the courts get it wrong before.
The girls aren’t here this morning, which is good. It gives me the space to breathe and think before the meetings I have for work today.
Gage reaches for my hand when I try to leave the bed. He pulls me back to him, into his arms, and takes a moment looking at me.
“If you’re determining damage, I’m okay,” I say.
“Determining damage?” He’s amused. “Where do you get these words from?”
“It’s what you do.”
The amusement fades from his eyes, and he turns serious. “I handle threats, Amelia. Manage situations. Lock shit down when it gets ugly.” His hand slides to my jaw. “But this? This isn’t damage control. This is me checking on my woman.”
I nod, offering him a faint smile I’m not sure quite reaches. Iwantto sink into this—into him—but there’s too much noise in my head. Too much leftover static from yesterday.
I push gently against his chest. “I’m good. But I’ve got a big day, so I need to get up.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. I’m not pulling away from Gage. I just need to find myself again before I reach for him.
As I walk into the bathroom, I can feel his gaze follow me—heavy, protective, laced with the kind of quiet intensity that says he won’t rest until I’m steady again. And God, I wish I could give him more. I wish I had it in me this morning. But I don’t.
When I return from my shower, he’s gone from the bedroom. I dress, pull my hair up, apply a little makeup, and make my way to the kitchen.
Gage is at the breakfast bar, coffee and laptop in front of him. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t crowd me. Just gives me the space he knows I need. Because if there’s one thing this man is exceptional at, it’s reading people. And not just seeing what they need, but giving it. Quietly. Consistently. Like it’s instinct.
And even though I can’t soften into that right now, I feel it. I see it. And part of me is already aching for the moment I can meet him there again.