Page 55

I oblige, angling my hips to hit that sweet spot inside her that makes her see stars.

She keens, the sound raw and primal, her walls fluttering around me.

I feel my release building, coiling tighter and tighter in my gut, but I fight it back.

Not yet. Not until she breaks apart in my arms one last time.

"Show me," I demand, my voice a harsh rasp I barely recognize. "Show me what I do to you. Only me. Always me."

Her eyes fly open, locking on mine with an intensity that knocks the world sideways.

I see everything there—her love, her grief, her rage at the unfairness of it all.

And then she's coming undone, shattering in my arms like glass thrown against stone.

Her back arches, her body a perfect bow of pleasure and pain.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream while her body clamps down on mine like a vice, pulling me deeper, refusing to let go.

The sensation of her spasming around me, the sight of her completely undone, pushes me over the edge I've been clinging to.

I bury my face in her neck, biting down on her flesh as I empty myself inside her, marking her in the most primitive way possible.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, my hips jerking beyond my control as I fill her with my seed—a part of me she'll carry even after I'm gone.

"I love you," I gasp against her skin, the words inadequate, meaningless in the face of what we're losing. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Afterward, I gather her close, pressing kisses to her sweat-dampened skin, tasting salt and sweetness and despair.

My heart is shattered, splintered into pieces too small to ever fit back together.

But in this moment, I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.

With her. No matter what the future holds, I'll never regret this.

Never regret loving her, even if it destroys me in the end.

I ease out of her slowly, both of us wincing at the loss of connection.

The air feels thick between us, charged with everything we aren't saying, heavy with the weight of goodbye.

She finger-combs her tangled curls, trying to restore order to chaos, and I want to stop her hands, to tell her to leave them messy—a reminder of my hands there just moments ago.

A reminder I won't have again when I'm back in my gilded cage, surrounded by everything except the one thing that matters.

Her.

When she bends to retrieve her panties from the floor, I grab them first, stuffing them in my pocket without thinking. Her eyes meet mine, and the ghost of a smile flickers across her face before dying. The sight guts me—even now, she's trying to be strong for me.

"Keep them," she whispers. "Something to remember me by."

The words hit me like a physical blow. As if I could ever forget a single moment with her. As if every second we've shared isn't branded into every fiber of my being. I reach for her waist, unable to let her step away just yet. My hands span her ribcage, feeling her breath hitch under my palms.

"Listen to me, Red." My voice cracks on her nickname, each syllable feeling like ground glass in my throat.

"These past weeks, seeing you again, learning the truth and loving you…

" I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in like a drowning man getting his last taste of air.

"You've given me back pieces of myself I thought were lost forever. "

Her fingers curl around my wrists, anchoring me as my world spins apart.

"Promise me something?"

She nods, those forest-green eyes swimming with tears that she refuses to let fall.

"Keep painting. Keep creating beauty from chaos.

" My thumbs catch the tears she can't hold back, each one burning like acid against my skin.

"Keep letting your light shine so bright it burns away the shadows.

" My voice drops to a whisper, rough with everything I can't say.

"And be happy. God, Red, please be happy. "

Her fingers tighten on my wrists, and I feel the slight tremor in them. "How can I be happy when you're taking my heart with you?" Her voice breaks on that last word, and she uses that nickname that undoes me completely. "Sainty, please..."

The sound of the nickname tears through my defenses like a bullet. I crush her to me one last time, memorizing the feel of her in my arms. The way she fits against me like she was crafted from my missing pieces.

"The penthouse is yours for as long as you need it," I manage, each word feeling like glass in my throat. "Stay as long as you want."

I force myself to turn away, to take those first impossible steps toward the door. Each footfall echoes like a death knell in my chest. Behind me, I hear her shaky breath, feel the weight of her gaze burning into my back.

At the threshold, I pause, my hand trembling on the doorknob.

"You were worth it all, Red." The words come out rough, raw, scraping my throat like broken glass. "Every moment. Every heartbeat. Even knowing how it ends. I'd choose you again. Every time."

Her broken whisper follows me into the hallway. "Thank you for showing me what real love feels like. Even if it was just for a little while."

The raw honesty in those words nearly shatters what's left of my resolve. Not an accusation or plea—just gratitude, even as I'm breaking her heart. Even as I'm walking away.

I close the door, the soft click of the latch feeling like the end of everything. My forehead presses against the cool wood as I struggle to breathe around the vise crushing my chest. The scent of her still clings to my skin, a cruel reminder of what I have to walk away from.

I love you. I love you enough to let you go.

The words slice through me like serrated blades as I force myself down the hallway to Ethan's room.

My knuckles are white around my suitcase handle, each step taking me further from everything that matters.

Each footfall echoes with finality—the sound of a heart shattering, of dreams dying, of chains tightening.

Ethan opens his door before I can knock, one look at my face telling him everything.

"Promise me," my voice cracks, splintering on emotion I can barely contain. "Promise you'll look after her."

"Ares—"

"She can't be alone right now." The words tumble out, desperate and raw. "She'll try to be strong, try to handle it herself, but she needs... she needs someone to..." I can't finish, my throat closing around the truth: she needs me, and I'm walking away.

"Hey." Ethan's hand grips my shoulder, grounding me. "I've got her. I promise. I won't let her go through this alone."

I manage a jerky nod, not trusting myself to speak. My phone vibrates—the driver, right on schedule. Like the universe itself is conspiring to tear me away from her.

"Are you sure about this?" Ethan's voice is quiet, serious.

I lift my gaze to his, and whatever he sees there makes him step back, his jaw tightening. He squeezes my shoulder once more before letting go, the gesture heavy with understanding.

The city blurs past the car window, a kaleidoscope of lights and shadows that mock me with their beauty.

Every street corner holds a memory—Red laughing in the rain, paint smudged on her cheek, her fingers tangled with mine.

The small dimple that appears when she really smiles.

The way she fits against me like she was crafted from my missing pieces.

In the jet, Boston's lights fade to pinpricks beneath me. I press my forehead against the cool window, my breath fogging the glass. The taste of true happiness lingers on my tongue like the last sip of a favorite wine, knowing there will never be another bottle.

The plane soars higher, the city below shrinking into insignificance.

I'm returning to my gilded cage, to a life of duty and obligation.

No more rooftop moments under the stars.

No more nights spent watching her paint, mesmerized by the way she creates beauty from nothing.

No more waking up to her cuddled against me, her body warm and trusting.

No more building a future that now lies in ashes at my feet.

Just the ever-tightening grip of the golden chains that have bound me since birth.

And the memory of green eyes that saw me—really saw me—for the first and last time.