Page 86 of Stiletto's Savior

“Done,” I announce, standing up. The victory pulses through me.

Zane crosses his arms. “Now what?”

I’m gonna wrap it up, give it to Song.”

He laughs, the sound harsh and wild. “She’ll love that.”

“Yeah,” I say, the corners of my mouth twitching. “She deserves to know what her ol’ man will do for her.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Stiletto

The kitchen is a whirlwind of Christmas chaos.

Octavia’s laughter echoes, but I’m drowning in worry.

My fingers drum against the counter, restless.

Miles hasn’t said a word all day. Not one damn word.

Octavia glances my way, her brow furrowed. “Stiletto, you good?”

“Yeah, just peachy,” I lie, plastering on a smile that feels more like a grimace.

“You’re fidgeting like a kid waiting for Santa.” She bumps my shoulder lightly with hers. “What’s eating at you?”

“Nothing,” I say too quickly.

The truth is a boulder lodged in my throat.

What if he left? What if he realized I’m not what he wants?

“Come on, spill it.” Her tone softens, and there’s a spark of concern in her eyes.

I sigh, pushing my hair back. “It’s Miles. I haven’t heard from him all day and that’s not normal.”

“Give him time. He’s tough as nails.” Octavia offers a reassuring smile, but it only tightens the knot in my stomach.

“Yeah, but…what if?—”

“Hey!” She cuts me off, her gaze sharp. “He’s not going anywhere.”

My voice cracks, and I hate how vulnerable I sound. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Just breathe.” She turns back to the kids, her voice lightening. “Look at the chaos they’ve created. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Sure. If you love glitter explosions.” I try to focus on the giggles and shrieks around us, but my mind drifts back to Miles.

“Okay, let’s distract you.” Octavia starts handing out cookies, but my heart isn’t in it.

Each crunch of a cookie feels like a ticking clock.

I suck in a sharp breath and ask her what’s right on my mind. “Where do you think they are? You think they’re out looking for The Commander?”

She shrugs, but her eyes dart toward the door. “Maybe.”

I whisper, the question heavy in the air. “Why now? Did something happen?”

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