His face drained of color. “Sera, I was… I didn’t-“
A bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Turns out, you succeeded.”
“Daniel is my only happiness.” I gritted my teeth. “And now, because of the goddamn threat you brought to my doorstep, I had to send him away just to keep him safe.”
“So tell me, Ethan-what’s next?”
“Sera, I-I never meant-“
“Save it,” I said sharply, slapping away his hand that held the door open. It dropped to his side without a fight.
“You all should just continue doing what you’ve done for the last ten years. I’m not your sister, Ethan, and I am not that woman’s daughter. I have no intention of changing that- not now, not ever.”
“Sera-‘
“Goodbye,” I said firmly and slammed the door in Ethan’s face.
For a moment, I stood in front of the door, unmoving. I didn’t know why. Was I waiting for
Ethan to knock again, demanding to reconcile?
After a full minute, I scoffed, wiping away a lone tear that had managed its way out of my eyes. It was one thing that he’d even visited my home, but expecting Ethan to fight for me?
Not in a million years.
And maybe that was for the best. Trying to reconcile with my family was like trying to make Kieran love me. Like watering a dead plant-futile and useless.
KIERAN’S POV
The low rumble of the city and the sharp chorus of traffic drifted through the tall windows behind my desk, but today, they carried no familiar comfort. The glowing skyline of downtown LA blurred into meaningless lights as my thoughts circled the same point again and again-Sera.
Papers spread before me on my desk, untouched. Architectural renderings. Expansion blueprints. Signed contracts. All things I should’ve been focused on.
But every line and glossy print twisted into the curve of her frown, the cerulean blue of her eyes, the pale blonde of her hair, the bite behind her words as I replayed every interaction we’d had since the divorce, dissecting each one over and over again.
Sera had always been meek and reclusive, and when Celeste came into the picture, I’d expected no less from her.
What I didn’t expect was this… stranger who kicked people out of her hospital room and blocked my calls and dished out scathing remarks like they were going out of fashion.
Worst of all was that she’d tactfully kept her distance. I guess it was foolish of me to expect anything less. After all, she’d spent the decade we were married like a snail, retreating deeper into her shell, even managing to keep me in the dark about her career.
“Sunset Ridge acquisition closed this morning. No press as usual-our shell company did the buyout clean.”
Gavin sat across from me, reading out from his tablet.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He cleared his throat and continued. “The zoning pushback you feared has been handled.
Councilman Ortego got his incentive as scheduled, disguised as a campaign donation.”
Another nod. “Good.”
“We’ve also purchased the unicorns you requested. They like their new habitat with the leprechauns at the end of the rainbow.”
“Perfect.”
A loaded silence followed, and my mind backtracked for a second before I sighed. “Ha ha,” I deadpanned, folding my arms as I leaned back into my seat with an exhale.
Gavin wasn’t amused, though. His steely eyes were fixed on me like a mirror that refused to flatter.
I sighed. “What?”
He looked at me for a beat longer before he shook his head. “Nothing. Shall we continue?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“The Malibu compound’s under-“
“It’s about time for her security shift change, right?”
A muscle ticked in Gavin’s jaw as his hands dropped to his lap.
“You asked about her security this morning,” he said flatly. “And again, this afternoon. And again, thirty minutes ago. And before that, every single day for the last week.”
What the fuck?
When-how-did I turn into this… obsessive mother hen? I’d thought more about Sera in the last couple of weeks than the entire decade of our marriage, and her presence in my mind was showing no signs of departing.
“Indulge me,” I said through clenched teeth.
Gavin sighed, sliding a finger across his tablet.
“We’ve got wolves posted at opposite corners of her perimeter at every point in time, rotating in four-hour shifts,” he said in a practiced drone, like he’d repeated this a million times-which he kind of had. “We’ve got surveillance drones in the surrounding trees.
Motion sensors. Noise scanners. One of the security teams has a human ex-Marine bonded to the pack. The others are elite pack members.”
He glanced up with a sigh. “Short of moving in with her, there’s nothing more we or you can do to ensure her safety.”
I ran a hand through my hair, the tension in me not easing. “And you’re certain there’ve been no breaches?”
“A hundred percent.”
I exhaled, the leather of my seat creaking underneath me as I shifted my weight.
“Ten years,” Gavin muttered, his tone thoughtful.
My gaze jumped to his. “What?”
“You and Seraphina were married ten years, and I have never seen you so… unnerved when it came to her.”
My arms tightened. “She didn’t get shot in those ten years.”
His gaze sharpened, like he could cut me open and inspect my insides. “And you’re sure that’s all it is?”
Gavin’s brows shot up, and his head tipped back to look at me when, instead of answering,
I stood abruptly.
“I need a drink,” I declared.
I needed to stop thinking about Sera, and evidently, I couldn’t do that with my own willpower.
***
Luna Noire pulsed with soft jazz, velvet walls muting the outside world, pulsing lights casting everything in a bruised-red glow. Wolves lounged on curved leather banquettes, glasses in hand, their laughter feral and unfiltered.
The bar gleamed like obsidian under candlelight, and, like a sailor to the call of a Siren, I moved towards it, drawn by the promise of momentary distraction.
The distraction came quicker than I expected when Gavin and I climbed onto the bar stools-next to Ethan.
“I know why I’m here,” I started, eyeing my ex-and most likely future-brother-in-law.
“Why are you?”
Ethan chuckled, a dry, empty sound that contrasted with the liveliness in the bar.
“How are things with Sera?” he asked instead of answering.
My chest tightened. Fuck. So much for a distraction.
I signaled to the bartender. “Whiskey. Neat.”
A minute later, a glass slid into my waiting hand. “Leave the bottle,” I muttered.
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