Page 238 of Enemies

“Relationship isn’t all big gestures, Harrison. It’s the day-to-day.”

“Alright. Let’s talk about today.”

I stiffen, thinking he’s going to segue into Mischa, but he surprises me.

“Sebastian told me about the man he’s seeing.”

“He did?”

His gaze narrows. “You knew?”

“He tells me lots of things.”

Harrison frowns as if the idea of Ash is confiding in me disturbs him.

“He wants to be close to you.”

“That’s not why I’m bothered. It’s because he’s been able to contact you all year. He had this relationship with you I couldn’t have.”

“You could’ve,” I point out. “It was your choice to leave.”

“I thought it was for the best,” he says softly.

Our dinner comes, and the conversation shifts back to Ash. Harrison tells stories about them growing up. It’s clear he adored his little brother.

“We should’ve been closer after our parents’ deaths, but he blamed me. I protected him from the worst of it. Ensured he had the best schooling. Kept him away from the media, the legal side of things.”

I take another bite of delicious paella, feeling the night breeze whisper over my skin before I reach for my wine.

“Maybe you should’ve stayed with him instead of trying to bubble-wrap him,” I murmur.

He flinches. “I thought I did the right thing. It feels like the right thing is obvious, but when you look back, sometimes it seems there were only many wrong ones.”

We sip in silence.

“I know you thought you were doing the right thing by leaving LA,” I start when I set my glass down. “But it wasn’t. Not because you left, but because you treated me like my opinion didn’t matter.” I lean forward, my cuff clinking against the table. “You called me your queen and then treated me like a pawn.”

“I’m sorry I ever made you think that.”

“Why is Mischa so set on chasing after you? You said you never considered working for his parents.”

“I did one gig for them.” My brows shoot up in surprise. “Then when I learned my parents weren’t the people I thought, it reinforced that about me.”

“You’re a good man. Not because of what you’ve built. Because of what’s in here.” I reach over and tap his shirt under the edge of his jacket.

He presses my palm to his chest, and the steady thud of his heart beneath my hand is so warm and real it’s a wonder I don’t melt into him.

We finish our dinner, and he rises from his chair, motioning to me.

His hand on my back, he moves us to the ledge and leans both elbows over it to look out at the lights of the city, the black ocean beyond.

“Tourists come to Ibiza for the crowd. But when you lift your gaze past the party, we’re surrounded by stillness. It’s easy to forget there’s a whole world out there.”

“I’m sure your executive team in London reminds you that you have a business to run.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He turns toward me. “When I’m with you, I feel that calm. I don’t need to be on an island to feel it anymore.”

My heart skips. “Where should we go? You might have an empire, but this girl needs to work.”

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