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Behind the hazel eyes staring back at me is a man who loves me and is willing to offer a lifetime of happiness. Austin asking my dad for permission renders me speechless, equally so—my dad agreeing.
I love Austin, but it still feels so soon.
“Millie,” he breathes with a nervous smile, “You’re kind of leaving me out here on a limb.”
His face flashes before me.
His touch crawls on my skin.
And then—I’m reminded of the trail of destruction the moment he left for London.
Will Romano never fought for me or us. Just like I never fought for him. I chose my family, even though it almost killed me to lose him.
It’s over.
It’s been over for four years.
“Yes.” I nod, my eyes widening as I let out a gasp. “Yes, Austin Carter. I will marry you.”
2
WILL
Next to the only window inside the room, I sit at the head of the table.
Outside, the cluster of gray clouds form in the sky, rainfall predicted as usual. It’s your typical day in London—dreary, wet, and cold. Nothing at all like home.
I welcome the momentary silence.
The last two weeks have been chaotic. Non-stop travel between different countries across Europe. Endless meetings, networking, conferences—nothing remotely pleasurable aside from a day trip to the Greek Islands courtesy of a client. If it wasn’t for my personal assistant, I wouldn’t know what day it is as I barely set foot on English soil. Right after this meeting, I am scheduled on a flight to Brussels for a convention where I am the guest speaker.
Yet these moments of solitude, its purpose of disconnecting me from the world if only for minutes, is a blessing and a curse.
My eyes close as I try to drown out all distractions while I take the deepest of breaths. I’ve formed a bad habit, cracking my knuckles to loosen my joints. With my eyes still shut, my head tilts left, then right, releasing the built-up tension in my shoulders.
The door opens, and noise from outside the room filters through. Some of our executive team arrive early, entering with a welcoming nod before taking their places at the table. Jensen, our head of IT infrastructure, takes a seat beside me without considering my personal space and starts rattling off numbers with which he seems displeased. I listen attentively, nodding in agreeance, but my focus is elsewhere.
And the very reason is about to walk in the room at any minute now.
Lex Edwards.
If you listen carefully, you can hear the weighted steps, each one taken with a sense of pride. The voices around me slowly filter out, and then suddenly, the energy in the room changes.
Lex’s entrance is not subtle.
His presence demands attention.
The team respectfully rises from their chairs, acknowledging his arrival.
Not me though.
I don’t even bother to look his way.
It’s been four years since I last spoke to him—all of our business dealings executed through our management team. The moment he gave me the ultimatum—organized that contract to ship me to London with strings attached—we ended our relationship then and there.
I’d been called a fool to go up against the man who deals all the cards, often warned of the risks and ability to lose everything I have.
But the damage is done.
