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He shushes me and whispers against my hair, “Let it out, my darling. You don’t need to do everything alone anymore. I’m here, Grace. We’re a team. For the first time in my life, I care about someone more than myself. You’ve given me that gift. Please let me share your burdens.”

Lifting my head, my vision blurry, I attempt to give him a wobbly smile. For now, I’d relish the feeling of his embrace.

I’d be brave.

“Nine months ago, when I lost the internship, I had to find another way of getting money to pay off a loan from a loan shark who threatened to hurt Mom,” I begin, my voice sounding thick to my ears.

Steven’s muscles tense, his brows pinched with regret as he listens to me tell him about my burdens all these years—the eviction, Taylor’s tuition at Petit Jeté and ABTC, the loan payment, my choice to dance at Trésor for two years, my search for my birth father, Mom’s tragic passing, and how no day goes by without me missing her.

The words pour out of me, like the dam has been broken, and I sob into his chest and tell him everything as he grips me tighter against him, wrapping his muscular arms around my back as if to protect me from my memories and worries.

My voice is hoarse as I tell him about the men who have rotated in and out of our lives and how I’ve been afraid of my feelings for him because experiences of abandonment by the men in my life.

“Perhaps, I’m a cliché, a little girl always missing her father.

When I was younger, I used to dream he’d walk through the doors one day, kneel to the ground with his arms stretched wide, and we’d run excitedly to him for a hug.

He’d smell like warmth and safety and tell us how he missed us and couldn’t live without us. ”

And so, when we were kids, growing up in the questionable neighborhood of the South Bronx, I remember feeling the sharp edges of jealousy whenever I saw my classmates’ dads picking them up from school.

Even though we were all equally poor and wearing similar threadbare pants and scuffed shoes a size or two too big—since you’d get more wears out of them—my friends looked so happy sitting atop of their dads’ shoulders.

It was the first time I learned how poisonous jealousy was.

How it seeps inside the depths of your soul, sinking into every nook and cranny, coloring your vision of the world in a shade of ugly, despicable green, and not the vibrant hues of spring, but the vomit-inducing sludge of trodden weeds caked with mud after a rainy day.

“I’d be so jealous of my friends and classmates with doting dads. The only time this jealousy abated was the several years we had with Uncle Bobby when Taylor and I were little. He was Mom’s only boyfriend who treated us well, like we were his own.”

I smile at the memories. He’d pick us up from school and take us to Coney Island on the weekends so we could go on the big Ferris wheel and buy us hot dogs with all the toppings from the stands while we waited for Mom to get off from work at her dance club.

Whenever he visited, he’d bring us the watermelon gummies I loved and the cocoa crisps with real chocolate chips for Taylor.

He’d read stories to us of princes and princesses, of faraway lands and magic.

I still remembered his bodily warmth, his reassuring scent of leather and old books.

For the longest time, I secretly hoped he was our father, and he would stay forever.

But Mom would always shake her head when we asked.

But one day, he too disappeared, and I never wanted a father anymore.

I just wanted answers.

It was easier not to get our hopes up than to get our hearts torn apart. Now, with the lens of childhood laid shattered at my feet, I’m too jaded to care .

I let out a shaky sigh as I doodle circles on his forearm with my finger.

“Obviously, that relationship didn’t last, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t let my heart be ensnared by any man, because no one could be trusted outside of Mom and Taylor.

And because I didn’t want to depend on anyone because everyone outside my family had deserted us in the past, I didn’t want to take money from friends.

I’d much rather dance here for the two years and then start fresh later.

So that’s why I disappeared and why I ended up here. ”

Steven lets out a shuddering exhale, then he intakes another deep breath before repeating the motion again.

I swallow the lump in my throat and while my voice is raspy from crying, my soul feels lighter than it has ever felt in recent memory.

I glance up and find his impassioned gaze pinned on me, a vein throbbing on his forehead.

His jaw is clenched. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but shuts it to swallow instead, like he doesn’t even know where to begin.

Finally, after a few seconds of silence, our naked bodies intertwined under the covers, he rasps, “You sweet, strong girl. God, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve gone through.

And yet, you still stand tall, smiling at the world.

You still find it in your heart to befriend a lonely man who has everything he could possibly want in life and yet doesn’t value his possessions when you had so little to live on. I don’t deserve you.”

His eyes cloud over with moisture as he raises his trembling hand to caress my face. I close my eyes and lean into his touch.

“And I’m the one who told you about the job offer, the person who set everything into motion.” His breathing is harsher. The words take on a clipped edge, and I can feel the anger and self-loathing seeping through his words. “It’s my fault—”

“Shhh…” I press my finger to his lips, halting his verbal lashing on himself.

“It’s easy to want to blame someone else for our problems. I know I wanted to all this time, and it was easy to blame it on you because the thing is…

you are everything I’m afraid to have…my biggest temptation.

It was easier to be angry at you than to show you all the imperfections in me.

But I’ve always known it wasn’t your fault.

You didn’t know everything I was dealing with.

And even if you did, I wouldn’t have let you help me.

My pride and fear didn’t allow it then.”

“Will you let me help you now?” Steven holds his breath, his eyes intense, his brows slanted in concentration.

My pulse is a beating drum in my ears, and my heart threatens to give up inside my rib cage. My tongue dips out to wet my lips, but his gaze doesn’t waver from mine. His muscles are tense, as if every atom in his body is waiting for my response.

I swallow and say, “Y-Yes. Please help me, Steven. I’d like to have your help.”

I look at her slumbering form as the storm rages outside, oblivious to the way my life changed in the last few hours. The wailing of the winds sounds eerie, but I barely notice anymore.

Normally, in the thick of the midnight tempest, I’d be staring at the dark ceilings, an aching want drenching my skin in sweat. My mind would be restless, my body filled with unease.

But now, with Grace tucked in next to me, her alluring scent of jasmine cloaking the room in a soft scent I hope will never dissipate, my heart is at ease and finally at peace.

My mind reels from how our bodies came together tonight. Sex before was meaningless and bland, a means to an end so I can eliminate the biological urge and focus on more important matters. But with Grace, it’s a communion, a transcendence.

I’ll never forget how she melted in my arms, how delicious her mouth tasted, how every nerve ending in my body vibrated like a tuning fork when I thrusted into her hot, wet heat, how her channel clenched my cock in a vise as if she didn’t want to let me go any more than I want to leave her body.

I’ve never come as hard as I did tonight, our hands intertwined, much like our hearts.

It felt like…making love.

Unlike my past experiences, my body aches to do it again.

And we did, when I carried her into the shower and fucked her against the tiles after I soaped up every inch of her delectable body and washed off the rain with warm water.

Now, in the middle of the night, I want to rouse her from sleep and bury myself inside her again.

I want to hear her screaming in my ears from pleasure as I lose my sanity with her.

My cock throbs and my balls ache, but I swallow my impulse as I take in the sleeping princess once more.

She looks radiant even in her sleep, the murky glow of the night caressing her smooth face half-blurred in shadows. Her nose scrunches adorably and she buries her head closer to my chest, as if seeking my warmth.

I want to keep this expression on her face always. I’ll do everything I can to help her so she doesn’t have to shoulder her worries alone anymore.

She took down her walls tonight and decided to let me help her by paying off her loan from the Kents. I smile as I recollect her reaction.

“I still don’t feel comfortable taking money from you.”

“You won’t. You’ll come back and work with me at Pietra.” My lips twist into a grin as I watch her eyes widen, like the idea is something that hasn’t crossed her mind before.

“B-But there are no open positions available.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care, I’ll make one. This time, I’m not letting my boss turn me down. After all, I’m the COO now. I have the power to open a new position.”

A glimmer of hope and elation shines in those violet eyes. Her lips twitch into a wry smile. “Oh, right, you got promoted.” Her fingers travel up my chest, sending blood rushing to my stiffening cock. “Big boss now. But the answer is no.”

I frown. “Grace—”

“I want to be a consultant instead. That way, I get to be my own boss.”

My lips quirk. “I can work with that. I’ll hire you as my consultant, and you can help me on the TransAmerica takeover.”

I sigh, my smile falling away. “Grace, I need help with it. It’s my father’s legacy, and no one in the company is up to snuff.

They’re all telling me what I want to hear, but not actually telling me what’s wrong with our approach.

I need someone to come in with a fresh set of eyes. Please come and help me. I need you.”

She stares at me, her gaze sweeping over my face, the teasing glint softening into seriousness, and she nods. “I’ll come help you. We’ll save your father’s business.”

A thickness forms in my throat and I clasp her hands in mine. “Thank you. You’re saving me, not the other way around, Grace. The loan repayment will be part of your compensation. It’s more than fair for what TransAmerica means to me.”

She gnaws on her beautiful lip. She blinks, her eyes glistening, and lays her head on my chest again.

My lips tilt in a smile as I curl her body against mine, wrapping my arm around her back. She grumbles something before letting out a soft sigh and buries herself against my heat, like she belonged there all along.

I’ll make sure she stays happy by my side.

My problems haven’t changed since yesterday. We’re still losing the TransAmerica hostile takeover. I finally called Hancock the other day, and he told me Voss was leaning hard on him to sell his shares or to give him his votes. He was threatening him with an imminent takeover of his own company.

How do you win a card game when you’re playing with a cheat? I want more than anything to give Timothy Voss a taste of his own medicine, but I know Father, with his strait-laced attitude, he wouldn’t want to sink as low as the scum of the earth.

Despite this, I feel content, the dark void inside me disappearing with every moment I spend with Grace next to me.

She’s my grace, my breath of fresh air. She ignites my heart.

The swirling warmth and sultry heat inside me wrap around my chest again.

An emotion is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t dare voice it yet.

The rain pelts against the windows, this time sounding like a soothing melody, lulling me into safety, with the only woman I’ve ever cared for romantically sleeping soundly in my arms. My eyelids feel heavy, the unfamiliar warmth in my body blanketing me in comfort.

A flash of lightning pierces the room, followed by a low rumble of thunder—all part of nature’s soundtrack, a cleansing of souls—and for the first time, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.