Page 21 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless
I drain my scotch. The alcohol burns a path down my throat.
Our rhythm was disrupted by ambition. Years of calculated choices now depend on the outcome of the audit. But at what cost?
Because it doesn’t erase the undeniable truth I've been running from: I never stopped loving her.
But loving her doesn’t change the fact that what she doesn't know—and I'll never tell her—is that it's not just about keeping her safe from external threats.
It's about keeping her safe from me.
From the man who broke her heart to save her life.
From the man who would do it again, if necessary.
From the man who still wakes up reaching for her, even after all this time.
I check my phone. No response from Chanel. No update from Collins. No movement on any front.
Just silence and waiting and the growing certainty that something worse is coming.
I've always been good at strategy. At seeing the board, anticipating moves, calculating risks, and rewards. It's what built Novare. What made me wealthy beyond my inheritance. What kept me alive in the shark tank of Manhattan finance.
But with Chanel back in play, the rules change. The stakes rise. The consequences of failure become unacceptable.
Because this isn't just about the White Glove Pivot anymore.
It's about her. About Jaden. About the family I destroyed to protect.
About the truth I buried so deep, I sometimes convince myself it never happened.
I turn away from the city view, back toward the empty penthouse that never felt like home. Tomorrow, everything changes.
Tomorrow, the careful distance collapses. Tomorrow, we step back into each other's orbits. Whether we're ready or not.
And the truth is, I'm not ready. Not for her scrutiny. Not for her presence. Not for the way she sees through every lie I tell myself.
But ready or not, it's happening.
I close the terrace door behind me, locking it with a decisive click. Then I move through the dark halls to my bedroom, not bothering with lights. Darkness suits my mood. Matches the cold clarity settling in my chest.
Whatever's coming—whoever's coming for us—I'll be ready.
Not because I'm brave, good or worthy of second chances. But because when it comes to protecting what matters, I've never had limits.
And Chanel Warren, whether she knows it or not, still matters more than anything.
And that makes me a very dangerous man.
FIVE
THE QUIET DECISION
CHANEL
I don’t knock.
The penthouse door swings open before my knuckles can connect with the wood, as if Jakob knew the exact second I’d arrive. He stands in the doorway, tie loosened, sleeves rolled to the elbows, eyes watchful.
“Chanel.” He steps aside to let me pass. No smile. No pleasantries. Just my name, spoken with careful neutrality.
