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Chapter Thirty-Three

Jonathan–past

I’m losing her.

Annabel stands on the sidewalk outside The Chelsea waiting for a cab, her back to me, the wind tearing through her hair and whipping the hem of her dress around her legs.

She’s the picture of defiance, an untouchable goddess who knows the power she holds over mortal men.

I’ve been waiting out here for her all morning.

I watched Calum leave hours ago–probably for a meeting before they head back to Ravensreach.

“Turn around,” I demand, my voice sharp, cutting through the cacophony of city chaos.

She doesn’t move, her posture rigid as she refuses to look at me. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Her words, so dismissive, slice through me. I take a step closer, reach out to her and then think better of it. “You didn’t say that last night,” I reply, venom lacing my tone. “Or have you already forgotten?”

Her shoulders tense, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. Good. She deserves to feel as raw and exposed as I do.

“Last night was a mistake,” she says finally, her voice barely audible over the wind tunneling down 23rd Street. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“A mistake?” I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh and hollow. “That’s what you’re calling it? After everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for you?”

She turns then, her eyes blazing with that familiar fire that both infuriates and captivates me. “What have you done for me, Jonathan? Besides marry my cousin and make my life more complicated?”

The accusation stings, but I press on, my anger fueling me. “I’ve protected you. I’ve been there for you when Calum was too busy chasing his dreams to notice you were drowning. I’ve loved you in ways he never could.”

“Loved me?” she snaps, her voice rising with fury. “You don’t love me, you’re just trying to shape me into something I’m not. You’re more like him than you think, you know.”

“Don’t compare me to him,” I growl, stepping closer. “Calum doesn’t even know who you really are. He’s in love with some fantasy, some perfect muse he’s conjured up in his head. But I see you. I see the cracks and the flaws, and I still want you.”

Her laugh is sharp and bitter. “Wanting me isn’t love, Jonathan. It’s obsession. And it’s suffocating.”

For a moment, her words steal the air from my lungs.

But then the fury surges again, hot and blinding.

“You talk about suffocation as if you’re some helpless victim,” I say, my voice trembling with rage.

“But you’re the one pulling the strings, Annabel.

You’re the one playing us against each other, turning us into pawns in your little game. ”

Her jaw tightens, and I see the cracks forming in her carefully constructed facade. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I take another step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I should kiss you again. ”

“Don’t kiss me again, if you did I’d have to leave him and he wouldn’t survive.” Her eyes hang an extra beat with mine, as if she’s at war with herself. “The surest way to kill me would be to kiss me again.”

“So that’s it then? We forget last night ever happened? Go back to our dull lives?” I move closer, needing to be near her. “Always longing, in miserable agony, forever seeking the secret names that vibrate in each other’s skin.”

Her eyes flicker with something—fear, maybe—but she quickly masks it with defiance. “Yes. Go home to your wife.”

“No, I’m finally seeing things clearly,” I say, my tone cutting. “You begged me for this, Annabel. Do you know why Calum got that commission at the New York Public Library? Do you think it was because of his talent? Because of his genius? No, Annabel. It was because of me.”

She blinks, confusion clouding her features. “What are you talking about?”

“You know my father is the library’s biggest patron,” I reveal, my lips curling into a bitter smile. “He’s the one who made it happen. He’s the reason Calum is standing on the precipice of greatness. And you’re the reason he’s about to fall.”

Her face pales, the weight of my words sinking in. “You wouldn’t?—”

“Wouldn’t I?” I cut her off, my voice low and menacing. “You’ve been lying to him, lying to me, playing us off each other like we’re nothing more than toys for your amusement. You’ve betrayed both of us. And now, you’re going to pay for it and you don’t like the consequences.”

“What do you want?” she yells into the wind.

“Leave him. Leave him and be with me, we’re meant to be and you know it.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t–Calum–he can’t live without me or his career. If I leave him it would break him. He would lose himself–”

“He’s weak. I thought if I got him that commission–if I did this for you–it would prove that I would move mountains for you–that you would finally leave him.

His art is the only thing that matters to him, not you, not really.

He’s not capable of loving you like I am, like I always have.

He’s too consumed with his work, his art, his success.

You know that, Annabel. From the start it’s been us–you and me against the world.

Always.” She shakes her head, and my gaze hardens at her silent rebuff.

“If you don’t leave him I’ll pull the mural project.

I’ll tell my father to commission someone else. ”

Tears glisten in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her defiance returning. “You’re pathetic,” she spits. “You think you can control me, manipulate me, but you’re nothing, Jonathan. Nothing. You married my cousin to spite me, what makes you think I could ever respect you after that?”

Her words ignite something dark and primal within me.

I step closer, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

“If you don’t come clean, I’ll destroy him,” I say, my voice trembling with anger.

“I’ll take everything from him—his career, his reputation, his future.

And when he finds out the truth about you, do you think it will destroy him more than losing that commission? ”

Her breath catches, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. But instead of backing down, she steps closer, her face inches from mine. “You’re a coward,” she hisses. “Hiding behind your father’s money and influence, pretending you’re so righteous and noble. But you’re just as broken as I am.”

The admission stuns me, but I recover quickly, my anger flaring once more. “You’re better off dead to both of us,” I say, my voice cold and detached. “At least then, you wouldn’t be able to ruin anyone else’s life.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, I see genuine fear. But then her expression hardens, and she takes a step back, the morning wind whipping her hair around her face. “You’ll never have control over me, Jonathan,” she says, her voice steady. “Not now, not ever.”

With that, she turns and walks away, her figure disappearing down the block. I stand there watching her go, my anger simmering beneath the surface. She thinks she’s won, that she’s untouchable. But she has no idea what I’m capable of.