My stomach drops. “Gabe—” I start quickly, the line disconnecting, cutting me short. Dead silence fills the room, other than the suddenly deafening soft hum of electronics.
I stare at Damon.
He stares at me.
And for several long seconds, neither of us says a word.
Because, honestly?
What the hell is there to say after that?
I already know how this ends…
The house has gone quiet in a way that only happens when the sun starts bleeding out across the horizon, orange and violet casting through the windows. I’ve been moving through this compound for hours—calls, encrypted messages, standing in the command center with maps and files spread across every surface while my mind kept drifting to the east wing, to the room where I know Mackenzi is waiting.
As much as I want to have this discussion, the ambassador’s business with the cartel has the entire team spun up, strategizing how to keep Mackenzi protected without getting ourselves entangled in a war we didn’t sign up for. And to be honest, I needed a few hours to get my thoughts together.
My boots are soft against the marble as I climb the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The weight of the past twenty-four hours sits in my shoulders, in the tension tightening the column of my neck. I should be thinkingabout exit strategies and safe houses, about how to extricate an ambassador from the clutches of a group who don’t let its assets go easily.
Instead, I’m only thinking about her.
The door to her room is slightly ajar when I reach it, a sliver of lamplight cutting across the darkened hallway. I push it open, expecting to find her reading or watching something on her phone, anything to pass the time.
She’s in bed, but she isn’t sleeping. Mackenzi is curled on her side, facing away from the door, the sheet pulled up to her chin, her body language radiating a closed-off hostility that hits me like a physical blow the moment I step inside. “We need to talk.”
“Then talk,” she snips, not bothering to face me. Her voice is different, harder.
“Mackenzi—” She still doesn’t move. Her eyes stay fixed on some imaginary spot on the wall. I can see the pulse fluttering in her neck, the way her chest rises and falls too quickly beneath the thin cotton of her tank top.
“Just leave, Damon. Please.” Her voice cracks on my name.
“Look at me,” My voice is rougher than I intend, gravel and command mixed together.
“Getting dumped by a father and son back-to-back. Is it genetic? Or is it just me?”
“Look at me, Mackenzi.” Quick, long strides carry me across the room, and I lean over the bed, my hands cupping her jaw with a gentleness that contradicts the storm ragingon my chest. I turn her toward me, my thumbs pressing into the soft skin of her cheeks, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Is that what you think? You think I’d risk my reputation and livelihood over something I’d give up over a mild inconvenience?”
Her eyes are wet when they finally find mine, shimmering with the tears she refuses to let fall. “It’s not a mild inconvenience,” she whispers. “He’ll hate you.”
“He already hates me.” The words come out before I can stop them, the bitter truth spilling between us.
“That’s not funny.” Her hands grip my wrists and her fingers dig into my skin, anchoring herself to me even as she tries to push me away. “You know we can’t do this. He’s your son. I’m his?—”
“Ex-girlfriend,” I finish, my hold tightening slightly. “A relationship that ended before I ever touched you. Before I ever kissed you. Before I ever looked at you and saw someone I couldn’t live without.”
She shakes her head, her lower lip trembling. “Dam?—”
“I don’t think you understand, trouble. We’re doing this. There isn’t a version ofthiswhere I willingly walk away from you.”
“Damon—”
“I don’t think you understand,” I repeat, and my voice drops even lower. I lean closer, close enough that I can feel her breath ghosting across my lips and see every fleck of gold in her chocolate-brown eyes. “I love you.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and terrifying.
“It’s like I was wandering this world, lost, and the universe aligned every star in the sky just to lead me to you,” I continue, my thumbs stroking her cheekbones as my eyes search hers with an intensity that feels like it could burn through skin. “I love you like obsession and devotion are one. I love you like you’re the last thing I’ll see before I die, and the only thing I want to remember when I’m gone.”
Her breath catches, a sharp inhale that hitches in her throat.
