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His tone remains calm and firm, leaving no space for doubt.
“What was the reason? Everything okay?” Chris finally asks, his voice quieter and more cautious than the others.
Theo doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the window where darkness presses against the glass as if he’s briefly replaying a memory only he can see.
When he finally looks back at them, his eyes are focused, the weight in them carefully contained.
“The reason doesn’t matter anymore,” he says. “And it never will again. What matters is that I want to live freely again—like I did before Greece. No filters. No masks. That’s why I’m standing here now, apologizing for lying and asking you to trust me that it won’t happen again.”
His voice never wavers as he looks at each of them in turn, holding their gazes as if sealing the promise.
“And I want you to know another thing,” he adds, softer but just as clear. “Even though Thalia was part of it, the decision to keep the truth from you was mine, because I needed it to be believable.”
The weight of his confession falls over the room like a heavy blanket, no one moving or speaking while the silence stretches long enough that I feel every beat of my heart echoing louder in my chest.
Later that night, after countless failed attempts to fall asleep, I finally give up and slip quietly out of bed, deciding to head upstairs to the rooftop terrace Theo mentioned earlier.
I didn’t have the chance to explore the house when we first arrived, too busy fixing an issue for the Hartho event, but he told me there’s a jacuzzi up there, and right now that sounds like the perfect escape.
Barefoot so I don’t make a sound, I ease the door open and step into the hallway, the house wrapped in silence while every creak of the wooden floor seems amplified in the stillness. Moving carefully and almost holding my breath, I climb the two flights of stairs, hoping not to wake anyone.
When I finally reach the terrace, I push the door open slowly and close it just as carefully behind me before stopping in place, the view stealing the breath from my lungs.
The nearest house sits at least three miles away, and beyond it nothing but forest stretches in every direction, the trees rising tall and dark with silhouettes that feel both protective and isolating.
Above them, the sky spreads endlessly, a vast ocean of stars scattered so thick it almost seems as if I could drown in them.
Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath of fresh air—cold, and so clean it burns slightly in my lungs.
Gratitude floods me so suddenly it almost throws me off balance, gratitude for being here, for being surrounded by these people, for this exact moment of my life.
As a child—and even as a teenager—I could never have imagined that one day I’d be surrounded by so many warm, genuine people, people who see me, who care about what I want and need, who protect me without hesitation.
The thought squeezes my throat, blurring my eyes with tears that don’t quite fall.
Wanting to continue my silent prayer of gratitude somewhere warmer, I turn my head and search for the jacuzzi.
And that’s when I’m rooted to the spot.
There, in the back left corner, half-submerged in the steaming water, sits Ethan, his arms resting lazily along the edges while his back leans against the smooth wall of the tub, his intense, piercing green eyes fixed directly on me.
The sight knocks the air from my lungs, my breath stuttering as my knees weaken and my heart slams violently against my ribs.
TEN
Ethan
I hear her before I see her—the soft pad of her feet against the floor, the faint creak of the door. I don’t know who’s stepping onto the terrace until a familiar silhouette slips into view, a figure I could recognize anywhere, whether I want it or not.
She’s wearing the tiniest pair of silk shorts, so short I doubt there’s anything underneath, and a matching tank top. Her long hair spills loose down her back, untamed, catching the starlight, and she’s barefoot—utterly silent, utterly devastating.
The sight alone is enough to wake my cock, which hasn’t calmed since earlier tonight, when she appeared in that damn sexy set in the kitchen.
Irina came into the room later, and I wasn’t sleeping. We talked for nearly two hours about a few projects I was reviewing when she walked in. After that, I told her I need air and I left, letting her take a shower and get ready for bed.
It would’ve been the first night I’d actually had to share a room with a woman, and that thought alone was enough to make me not want to go back at all. I know she doesn’t expect anything from me. Irina isn’t clingy or needy; her life revolves around her work.
But still, the idea of crossing that line… no. I don’t want it.
