Page 114 of Fallen Empire
I couldn’t believe I was in his Penthouse—Jaxson’s space—and I hadn’t made it past the damn sofa.
Millie stood in front of me, her hands gently guiding my shoulders as I pushed myself upright. My vision blurred for a second at the sudden movement, but I blinked through it.
“Where do we go?” I asked, glancing around.
The place was… breathtaking. Sleek. Minimal. Expensive. Tall ceilings and matte black finishes, brushed brass hardware, a sprawling sectional the size of a small boat, and windows that made the skyline look like a painting.
“This way,” Millie said, steadying me as she led me down the hall to the left.
When we stepped into the bedroom, I stopped.
“Damn,” I whispered.
The space was massive, almost larger than my entire condo a few floors down. A king-sized bed spanned the far wall, covered in deep charcoal sheets and an impossibly plush blanket. On the other side, floor-to-ceiling windows lined the room, casting the early morning light across dark hardwood floors.
“You weren’t lying about the bed,” I said.
Millie smirked. “Nope. He’s got one in my room, too. I used to make him keep me company before you came along.”
I let out a soft laugh. Of course she did.
She guided me into the bathroom and I nearly gasped. It looked like something out of a five-star hotel. Marble countertops. A soaking tub framed by more of those impossibly tall windows. A rainfall shower with gold fixtures and black stone tiles. Clean. Elegant. Quiet.
And then I saw the closet.
Millie moved toward it, pulling the door open casually, and my breath caught in my throat.
My clothes were in there. Hangers filled with familiar pieces from my own closet—my sweaters, my jackets, even the silk pajamas Millie had bought not long after we met. She’d insisted they were the best pajamas ever. In her defense, they were.
He’d moved my things here.
I should’ve been angry that he’d done it without asking.
But when your life flashes before your eyes… when you wake up unsure you’ll ever see the person you love again… something inside of you changes.
Life is too short not to take chances.
And maybe, this was mine.
Millie laughed at the sight. “Oh, Vannah… what have you gotten yourself into?”
“Just find something comfortable,” I muttered, already dreading whatever emotional damage she’d inflict with her sarcasm.
She opened a few drawers before landing on one filled with T-shirts and sweats. Pulling out a pair of each, she grabbed a clean pair of panties and dangled them from her finger with a grin.
“You’re going to have to get out of those things they put you in. Want a bath? I can help you in.”
I glanced toward the massive tub, and God, did I want to soak for hours. But I shook my head. I knew my limits, and that was pushing them.
“Maybe tonight,” I said softly. “Think I can stand long enough to rinse off in the shower? I just want the hospital smell off me.”
“Absolutely.” She laid my clothes on the counter and opened the shower door to check it out. It was massive. But whatmade me stop was the sight of a padded stool inside, backed against the side wall, flanked by two sturdy handles.
Large enough to sit on safely.
On the smaller stool beside it were my own hair products and shower gel.
I blinked, caught off guard. “Seriously?”
