“I would never try to control you, Tara.”
“I know.” My voice catches. “That’s what makes this so hard. You see me - all of me. Even the messy parts. You don’t try to change them or hide them or manage them. You just... let me be.”
“Because that’s who you are,” he says fiercely. “You’re brilliant, and passionate, and beautiful. Anyone who tries to dim that light is an idiot.”
“But?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “But I can’t promise I’ll be any good for you. I’m not the sort of person to saveanybody. My world, my family... I don’t want to drag you into that darkness.”
“Maybe I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“You should be.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “But god help me, I like the mess. The chaos. All of it.”
“Yeah?”
For a moment, everything stills. His touch feels too gentle, too real - not at all like we're pretending anymore. And that terrifies me more than any darkness could.
“Yeah.” His smile is soft, private. Just for me. “It's veryyou.”
21
ALFIE
I’m adjusting a few variations on my screen, trying to make the data show me what I want to see as footsteps echo through the lab. Expensive heels click, clack. I don’t need to look up to know who it is.
“Darling.” Mother’s voice carries her particular tone - sweet poison wrapped in Chanel No. 5. “Working late again?”
I adjust the pressure parameters, refusing to turn around. “What do you want?”
“Can’t a mother check on her son?” She perches on the edge of my desk, her manicured fingers trailing over my research notes. I have the urge to swat them away. “Though I must say, this isn’t exactly what we pictured for you.”
“We?”
“The board, darling. Speaking of which - how is Professor Hammond’s funding request coming along?Suchimportant work she does. It would be a shame if the foundation had to... reallocate resources.”
My hands still on the keyboard. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She picks up one of my mineral samples, examining it like it’s a curious insect. “I’m simply making conversation about the department’s future. After all, the Spencer Family Foundation has been very generous with the geology program. Particularly thisfascinatingEuropa research.”
“Leave my research out of this.”
“Why should I?” Her smile sharpens. “Especially when you seem so determined to embarrass the family with this little bartender situation.Really, Alfie. What are you thinking?”
I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. “We’re done here.”
“Are we?” She sets down the sample with careful precision. “You know, your grandfather’s grant is up for renewal. The foundation board meets next month to discuss priorities.”
“You’d really do that?” My voice comes out rough. “Destroy years of research just because I won’t play your games?”
“Games?” She laughs softly. “Oh darling, this isn’t a game. This is about family legacy. About maintaining certain standards.” Her expression softens into something almost maternal. “We only want what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for the family name, you mean.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?” She straightens, brushing invisible dust from her designer suit. “Think about it, darling. How many years of work would be affected? How many careers? All those brilliant minds, counting on continued funding...” She sighs dramatically. “Such a responsibility.”
My jaw clenches so tight it hurts. She knows she has me. It’s part of how she rose to the top, and how she stays there. Everyone thinks Dad’s in charge, that he’s the reason the Spencers have so much status and power, but they’re all wrong.
“Now,” her voice turns bright, business-like, “I’ll see you at the donor dinner. Yes?”
