Page 55 of Steel Beauty

“I’m sure.” I will the confidence in my voice to be convincing.

“Fine. But I swear, if you land yourself in some international drama, I’m showing up with a megaphone and a hell of a lot of ‘I told you so.’”

She absolutely would. “Noted.”

“Love you, Mags. And remember—don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves me with a whole lot of nothing.”

Her words carry a quiet plea. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, Vi. Love you.”

“Love you too. Talk soon.”

I hang up, still smiling, the plush penthouse robe draped over me and the faint scent of him lingering in the air—a reminder that no matter how I spin it to Violet, I’ve definitely found my way into trouble.

Chapter13

Magnolia Steel

The rhythmic clickingof keyboards greets me as I step into Soul Sync’s office.

“Good morning!” Sophie’s greeting is unusually bright and cheerful.

“Morning.” I notice the coffee cup in her hand—the familiar logo from the café where Elijah sometimes surprises me with my favorite drink. I arch a brow, fighting a smirk. Sophie would never get coffee from there… unless Elijah made another visit to her room last night. It would explain the extra bounce in her step.

Not that I’m one to judge. After the night—and morning—I’ve had, I’m happier than a flea at a dog show.

I set my bag down beside my desk and fire up my computer, silently hoping for a quiet, uneventful start to the day.

No such luck.

Whitney appears out of nowhere, practically bouncing with excitement, her eyes wide and bursting with gossip. “You’re not going to believe this. Julius Caesar emailed me this morning. He said Cleopatra isn’t his match.”

My heart skips.

He did it.

He actually did it.

“What else did his email say?”

“He wants to pause the matchmaking process and take some time to figure out if this is really the right path for him. Can you believe that?”

Actually, I can. “Wow.”

Sophie’s expression is dazed. “That almost never happens. I can recall maybe a handful of people who’ve ever been unhappy with their match. It’s… odd, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. If he wasn’t feeling it with Cleopatra, he wasn’t feeling it. No point forcing it. I think he did the right thing.”

Sophie shrugs, still baffled. “I guess. But Cleopatra? She’s such a catch. If Julius Caesar knew what he was tossing aside, he’d kick himself.”

Would he though?

I didn’t meet Cleopatra or learn much about her beyond the surface details. Still, curiosity gnaws at me—what does she look like? Is she the poised, perfect type? The kind of woman who makes it hard to compete?

The thought stirs a faint jealousy in my chest. Silly, I know. He never even met her.

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