Chapter 91

A groan escapes my lips as I spill myself onto her back. This was exactly what I needed—the perfect way to unwind after a long day.

She turns her head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "So, when’s the next time? Tomorrow?"

I can see the relaxation in her posture. Maybe she needed this just as much as I did. I grab a towel and wipe my release off her skin, but I don’t answer. She knows how this works. I call the shots, not her.

By the time she’s dressed, it’s past ten. I need sleep before my packed schedule tomorrow.

Like always, she doesn’t linger. No sleepovers. No cuddling. Just sex. Nothing more.

"Sebastian?"

She’s the only one who dares to use my full name. I hate it. It reminds me of some damn saint when I’m anything but.

"Enough. You don’t get to decide when this happens again," I snap, irritation flaring at her question.

Hurt flickers across her face, but I ignore it. She knew the rules when she signed up for this.

"So, I just wait until you’re bored with your other women?" she murmurs.

I’ve never hidden the fact that she isn’t the only one. I like variety. Tonight, I wanted her. Tomorrow? Who knows.

"Yes," I say coldly.

The light in her eyes dims. She fights to keep her emotions in check, but I see it—the pain I’ve caused.

Damn it.

I hate when they catch feelings. Two years of this arrangement, and now she’s ruining it.

She didn’t have time for relationships, and I don’t do relationships. This was supposed to be simple. Besides, she’s just my secretary. Even if I did date, she wouldn’t fit into my world.

"I thought you could handle this," I say, voice sharp. "Clearly, I was wrong. This is the last time. You’ll keep working for me like nothing ever happened. Understood, Vanessa?"

Her gaze locks onto mine, sharp and unyielding.

"I can’t do this anymore," she whispers, tears welling. "I love you, but you’ll never love me back. You’ve shut yourself off, and I can’t keep pretending this is enough."

She’s a damn good secretary, but I won’t let emotions ruin this.

"Guess it’s time for your resignation letter, then," I smirk, mocking her.

She doesn’t respond. Just shakes her head and walks out. I don’t stop her. Instead, I unlock the gates remotely and let her go.

Once she’s gone, I collapse onto my bed.

She’s right. I have closed off my heart. Love? No thanks. My parents have a fairytale marriage, but that’s one in a million.

I’ve seen what love does. How it destroys.

It nearly killed Ethan when he lost Isabella. He was a walking corpse for months until Liam was born. Drowning himself in alcohol, barely functioning.

Why would I ever give a woman that kind of power over me?

Ethan was wrecked when things fell apart with Isabella. And now? Now I’m terrified of the same thing happening to him.

He doesn’t realize it yet, but he loves Sophia. When it finally hits him, it’s going to destroy him—knowing he’s hurt her over and over again.

I exhale sharply and head to the shower. Ten minutes under scalding water, and I’m still restless. Something’s wrong. And I have a sinking feeling it’s Ethan.

I dry off and pull on sweats, reaching for my phone—just as my security system disengages. Only one other person has access.

Ethan.

I make it downstairs just as he stumbles through the door, reeking of whiskey.

"Ethan? What the hell?" I grab him before he faceplants.

He’s drunk. Really drunk. That alone sets off alarms. He hasn’t been like this since his darkest days.

I haul him to the couch and drop beside him. "What happened?"

His voice is raw. "You were right. Again. I fucked up. How the hell do I fix what I broke?"

The pain in his words guts me. He’s my twin. His suffering is mine.

"Explain," I demand.

He looks wrecked. Like his world just imploded.

"I love her, Seb. Fuck, I love her," he chokes out.

"Who?"

"Sophia!" he shouts. "It hit me today."

And it hit him hard. This is exactly what I feared. The realization is destroying him.

"Why didn’t I see it sooner?" His voice cracks. "She’ll never believe me now. I spent years making her pay for that night. I hurt her so damn much."

A tear streaks down his face. His gray eyes—mirrors of my own—are filled with agony.

"How do I fix this? How do I mend a heart I shattered?"

I pull him into a rough embrace. Ethan never shows weakness. Not even when Isabella left.

His shoulders shake as he fights to hold himself together.

Nine years of pain won’t be undone easily. Sophia isn’t the same woman she was. She’s stronger now. She won’t let him close.

"I don’t know," I admit. "But you’re Ethan fucking Blackwood. You don’t quit. You’ll fix this."

He straightens, staring blankly ahead. "What if she doesn’t take me back?"

This isn’t my brother. The doubt in his voice proves how much power Sophia has over him. More than Isabella ever did.

What he felt for Isabella was young love. Easy. Fragile.

What he feels for Sophia? It’s deeper. Stronger.

"You’ll fight," I say quietly.

We sit in silence until he passes out. I carry him to the guest room and watch him for a moment, even in sleep, he’s tormented.

I want to believe he’ll win her back. But nine years is a long time to hurt someone.

If Sophia gives him another chance, it’ll be a miracle.

All I can do is hope. Hope that her love for him isn’t completely gone.

Because I’m not sure he’ll survive losing her.