The house was quiet when I returned. Elijah had dropped me off with a smile and one of his warm, brotherly reassurances, the kind only he could give. For him, dinner had been a reunion, a chance to laugh and catch up, to remind me that family was still a constant in this shifting world.
For me… it had been a distraction. And distractions only lasted so long.
I kicked off my heels by the door and padded barefoot into my room, the soft click of the lock behind me sounding louder than it should have. I wanted silence, but silence wasn't peace. It left too much space for thoughts I'd been running from.
I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind betrayed me, replaying scenes I hadn't meant to hold onto. The way Kairo had looked at me that day on the balcony—steady, unreadable, but far too intense. The memory burned sharper than it had any right to.
Why him? Out of everyone, why did my heart choose the one man I should never want?
I forced myself forward, dropping my purse on the chair by the window. The city lights blinked in the distance, echoing something restless in me. I sat on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands, trying to will the heat from my cheeks away.
"This is ridiculous," I whispered into the quiet.
But my body betrayed me—every time I thought of him, the same ache bloomed in my chest. It wasn't just attraction; it was the way he carried himself, the way he seemed untouchable. As if he belonged to a world I had no right stepping into, and yet… he'd already pulled me toward it without even trying.
I lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. I tried to think about work, about deadlines and responsibilities, about Elijah and how much he depended on me. Anything but the shadow of a man who lived in sharp suits and colder silences.
Still, somewhere deep down, I knew the truth: I wasn't running from Kairo. I was circling closer, night after night, thought after thought.
And if I wasn't careful, sooner or later, I'd burn.