Page 132 of Lavish

“Then lead me,” I said.

Miles chuckled, and I relaxed.

His hand slid down my back, guiding me closer, and I let myself breathe in the moment—the music, the flicker of candlelight, the way his touch steadied me even when everything inside still felt unmoored.

But my mind wasn’t quiet.

I’d seen her—Miles’s mother—talking to my father at the polo match. A match no one I knewwas supposed to be attending. What secrets was Daddy hiding? Hell, my whole family was hiding secrets.

And then, Dante. I made a deal with the devil because he was my only hope.

Miles turned us again, and I exhaled.

“I was thinking,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the saxophone. “About what you said back at home a few nights ago.”

He tilted his head, eyes flicking to mine. “Yeah?”

“You asked if you should still run your family’s company.” I nodded, my throat tight. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”

His gaze softened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I love what I do. I’m good at it.” I swallowed. “But I’m tired, Miles. I’m always tired. I don’t know who I am outside of King Developments. I don’t know what I like. I haven’t had a real hobby since I was seventeen.”

He held me a little closer, like he could feel the weight of what I was admitting.

“I was reading about sabbaticals,” I said with a dry laugh. “You know, the kind where people take time off to…I don’t know. Find themselves? Travel. Take pottery classes. Whatever the hell people do when they’re not working themselves into the ground.”

Miles grinned. “You’d look cute with clay on your nose.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I smiled.

He spun us slowly, one hand catching mine again, and I let him. Let him hold me steady.

“I just…I’ve built everything on the idea that I had to prove I was stronger. Smarter. Untouchable,” I said. “But I think it’s time I step back. I’d been fighting giving Erik my company, but…he can have it for now. I just wanna relax.”

Shock clouded Miles’s features, and I felt fearful of what I said aloud. This was scary. Unnerving. Nerve-racking.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “You deserve more. All I ask is that you don’t start collecting chickens and ugly statues.”

I rolled my eyes, but the laugh escaped before I could stop it.

He smirked, then without warning, dipped me.

My breath caught. The saxophone wailed behind us, and the room blurred into soft candlelight and clinking glasses. His hand held me securely, and I clung to his shoulder, startled but smiling wide.

“You’re ridiculous,” I whispered, heart still racing from the drop.

He leaned in, eyes molten. “You’re radiant.”

And then he kissed me.

But even as my eyes fluttered closed, even as warmth bloomed in my chest like jazz on the speakers… I couldn’t ignore the thought pressing at the back of my mind.

I still had to face my father.

CHAPTER 31

Miles