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Finally—finally—my fingertips kissed the thick glass.
Right above Dad’s pendant.
“Sorry it took me so long,” I whispered, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “He locked you in a golden cage. Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.”
Since Dad died, I’d kept his favorite pendant in my nightstand to hug close whenever I woke up in the middle of the night, missing him.
Before Vera sold it, a waft of his scent still clung to the intricate knots. I bet the scent was sullied by now by Zach’s clinical existence.
I’m getting this back, Pops.
I promise.
Hiking up the tattered hem of my pale-blue dress, I unhooked a portable glass cutter from the waistband of my underwear.
The blade clicked as I swung it out, spearing the corner of the glass. Violent thumps hammered between my ears as I began whittling a circle around the small lock.
Then I heard it.
Loud enough to pierce my heartbeats.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Fuck.
The chilly voice didn’t hold a candle to its owner.
I swiveled, pasting on a vacant smile of the Reggie variety. The type that screamed:I have nothing but dust and the latest Chanel collection between my ears.
“Ohmigod, it’s you. Zach Sun. I’ve been wanting to meet you forever.”
I was not above stroking men’s egos if it meant they left me alone. They were normally simple creatures, easily distracted by compliments.
Unfortunately, Mr. Sun appeared about as thawed as Iceberg B-15.
“I asked you a question.” He stepped forward, his eyes a dark vortex, so empty I feared I’d fall into their pits. “Now would be a good time to answer.”
It didn’t help that his presence distracted me. That he was tall, his angled jaw so defined I could sharpen knives on it. His hair and eyes blacker than the tip of a raven’s wing.
He wore a tux with a tailcoat, hair parted on the side and slicked back.
He was power, elegance, and beauty. Dripping charisma like it was molten gold.
And yet, too clinical.
Too cold.
Like a lifeless, deserted planet.
I’d seen him countless times—unbeknownst to him—and I could never get used to his magnificence.
His right brow popped up. “Cat got your tongue?”
More like I’m pussying out after getting caught.
“I got lost trying to find the art gallery.” I bowed, peering up at him behind a curtain of heavy lashes. “I’msosorry. I couldn’t help myself. The rumors precede it.”
“The art gallery is in the garage.” Zach reached for the switch, edging the dimmer up to its highest setting. White light poured from the ceiling. “And if you know it exists, you’re also aware that it is strictly off-limits. Besides, you don’t like art.”
