Page 120 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes
She ignores him completely, her attention fixed on me with laser precision. "You always were a disappointment. At least now you’ve made it official."
I swallow hard against the burn in my throat. "I’d rather be a disappointment on my own terms than your perfect puppet."
Her lips curl in disgust. "Don’t come crawling back when it all falls apart."
I hold her gaze, refusing to flinch. "I won’t."
For a beat, we stand there, the distance between us wider than it’s ever been, the chasm carved so deep there’s no bridging it now.
* * *
I’m surprised when Max pulls up outside my building. He presses a kiss to my forehead when we pull up to the curb. He doesn’t say much, just holds my hand for a second longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over my knuckles before he lets go.
"I’ll call you later," he says, voice low.
I nod, offering a small smile as I climb out of the car. I half expect him to follow, but he doesn’t.
It feels strange being left alone after everything. But there’s also something intentional about it. So, I’m not quite as surprised as I should be when I exit the elevator on my floor and find Sebastian waiting for me.
He’s standing outside my door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, his hair mussed in a way that suggests he’s raked his hands through it a dozen times in the last hour. He looks so out of place in my modest hallway.
"Hi," I manage.
He straightens at the sound, stepping forward but stopping himself a breath away. "Can we talk?" he asks, and there’s something ragged in the way he says it, something that punches straight through my walls.
I nod, too stunned to trust my voice. I’m bracing myself for the worst.
"I’m done running," he says quietly. "Done pretending I don’t want this. That I don’t want you. You asked for space and I gave it to you, but I want more, Genevieve. Please, sweetheart."
I grip the bags in my hand to steady myself.
"I’m in," he continues, every word measured, deliberate. "If you’ll have me. I want you. The baby. All of it."
“And Max and Silas?”
“Are part of this now. I understand that. I would never ask you to choose.”
The tears prickling behind my eyes threaten to spill over, but I swallow them back. I’m so tired of crying.
So, I do the only thing that makes sense.
I step toward him.
Sebastian meets me halfway, his hand closing around the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing the underside of my jaw as he tilts my head back to look at him.
"Say something," he murmurs.
Instead, I rise onto my toes and press my mouth to his.
His mouth crashes into mine, one hand threading into my hair. I gasp, but it’s swallowed by his kiss. He walks me backward blindly, not caring where we’re going, just needing more contact, more skin. It’s a collision of too many emotions and not enough time.
Sebastian growls low in his throat, his arms snapping tight around me. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, carrying me through the apartment, his mouth never leaving mine for long. The second we hit the bedroom, he sets me down on the bed and stands back, yanking his shirt over his head with one sharp movement. My mouth goes dry at the sight. His belt drops with a metallic clink.
I shift on the bed, thighs pressing together, every nerve ending firing at once.
"Spread your legs, sweetheart," he orders.
My body obeys before my brain catches up, my legs falling open, my dress bunched high on my hips. Sebastian watches me for a long, agonizing moment, his chest rising and falling harder now. Controlled, but barely.
