Page 110 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes

“I never stopped thinking about you.” I step closer, crowding into her space, daring her to push me away. “Not for a fucking second.”

I frame her face with my hands, savoring the feel of her skin against mine. I missed this. How did I ever think I could live without this woman?

The door to the restaurant bangs open behind us. Of course.

She stalks toward us, mouth already twisted into something triumphant. “Sebastian, what is going on? You’re making a scene.”

Genevieve stiffens, and for a second, I think she’s going to bolt again.

No. Not this time. I won’t let it happen.

I turn, intercepting Heather mid-step. “How did you know where I was?”

She blinks, thrown off by the question. “What?”

“I didn’t tell many people where I was going, certainly not you.” I step closer, forcing her back a step. “How. Did. You. Know?”

Heather falters, her mask cracking just enough for the truth to bleed through.

She tries to recover, plastering a coy smile across her face. "Sebastian, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a public restaurant. I just happened to be nearby."

"You’ve happened to be ‘nearby’ a lot lately. My office. My events. Now here."

Her mouth twists, defensive and desperate all at once. "I just thought?—"

"You didn’t think," I cut in, my voice dropping to something lethal. "You followed me. That’s stalking, Miss Langley, and that is grounds for legal action. Should we alert the authorities, Genevieve?"

I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting her to be gone. But she’s still there, standing stiff and uncertain a few feet away.

I refocus on Heather, who’s wilting under the weight of my stare.

"You will not come near me again. You will not show up at my office. You will not show up at my events. You will not involve yourself in my life. If you do, I will ruin you so thoroughly no one will remember your name."

Heather's throat works as she swallows, her bravado crumbling. "Sebastian?—"

"No," I bite out. "You’re done."

For a long moment, she just stands there, shaking with anger and something close to humiliation. Then, with a sharp pivot, she spins on her heel and storms off.

I wait until she disappears down the block before I turn back to Genevieve.

She hasn’t moved.

Her arms are still wrapped around herself, her face still tight and guarded, but there’s something else there now, too.

Hope.

I cross the distance between us slowly, careful not to push too hard. I fucked up too many times concerning her. One wrong move could undo everything.

Her mouth trembles before she firms it into a line. "You hurt me."

I nod, accepting the truth, letting it cut clean.

"I know. And I’ll spend every goddamn day proving I won’t make the same mistake twice. Or, a third time, I guess."

For a long, endless moment, she just stares at me, the war playing out across her face.

"Start by backing off," she finally says. "Give me space. I need time."