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Curled up on the sofa together, watching a Christmas movie, Chloe had deliberately kept her tone light, and judgement out of her voice. But now, hours and hours after Ellie had randomly turned up at her office announcing that she’d run away, Chloe asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ellie bit into her lip, guilt flushing her pretty face. “I guess we have to.” Her sigh was the epitome of teen drama. Chloe smothered a smile, reaching for her hot chocolate, now more lukewarm.

“It’s probably a good idea,” she agreed.

“I like having you around,” she said, lifting her shoulders. “I wanted to see you.”

“But honey, he would have driven you to me, or organized to have you brought down. Or I could have come and picked you up. You never need to resort to running away.”

“I don’t think he would have,” she said, brow showing consternation. “He was very clear that you were gone from our lives and I should get used to that.”

Chloe’s heart thundered. “I see,” she said, amazed that she was able to keep her voice so level.

“He said you were just someone who worked for him.”

Chloe dug her fingernails into her palm, ignoring the palpitating pain in the centre of her chest.

“Let’s set that aside for now,” she murmured, perfectly aware she would be revisiting it later. “How do you think Dimitrios felt to turn up at school and find you missing?”

Tears filled Ellie’s eyes. Her shrug lacked conviction this time. Chloe moved closer, putting a hand on her knee.

“He loves you, Ellie. You’re his whole entire world, and suddenly you were gone.”

“He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love anybody.”

Chloe’s heart twisted sharply. “He loves you,” she insisted. “I know he’s not the best at saying how he feels, but believe me, he feels. He would do anything for you, move mountains, catch the stars in his bare hands, anything. You can trust in that.”

Ellie shook her head, though, and Chloe felt a rising sense of despair at the long, twisty journey that the two of them had ahead. A journey she couldn’t—wouldn’t—really be a part of, except to cheer from the sidelines. She surreptitiously wiped at the corner of her eye before a tear of her own could slide out.

“Do you feel up to calling him?”

She shook her head vehemently. “He’ll be so angry with me. I can’t. I can’t.”

Chloe let out a small sigh. “I’ll tell you what. How about I call him first, test the waters? If he sounds cross, you don’t have to speak.”

“What if he yells at you?”

Chloe smiled gently. “I can handle it.”

He’d been staring at his phone for hours, willing it to ring, vacillating between all-out fury and desperate worry, and then, regret that he’d let Chloe talk him into this. He should have hauled Ellie back to his home and locked her away. At least in his home she would be safe.

He’d almost given up on hearing from her, and was preparing to get into his goddamn car and drive to London when it started to ring.

Chloe’s number.

His gut twisted, his throat felt thick. He swiped to answer. “Ellie?”

“No, it’s me.”

His gut dropped. “Chloe.”

“Yeah, look.” He heard the clicking of a door. “I think she feels pretty bad for running away. She’s worried you’re going to yell at her.”

He balled his hand into a fist, closed his eyes. “Of course I’m not going to⁠—”

“You’re yelling at me,” she interrupted sharply. “Get a hold of yourself.”

His eyes shifted, fixing on a point across the room. He sucked in a deep breath.