Page 153 of Sage Haven

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And he wasn’t wrong.

I watched him leave, my mind already turning toward the next step.

The next move.

The next risk.

After last night—after having her—I wasn’t the same man. I didn’t want to be.

She was mine now.

And I would burn the world down before I let anyone take her from me.

Klay hadn’t called.

The silence was louder than it should have been but I couldn’t focus on that now.

I had to survive this day.

Had to get through it.

So, I could go back to her. To the only place I wanted to be.

And when I got home… I’d remind her who she belonged to.

35

SAGE

Imoved through thekitchen effortlessly, my fingers trailing along the edge of the marble counter as though tracing the spine of a familiar book. My steps were slow, measured, deliberate. It wasn’t just a kitchen—it was a gallery of precision. A curated reflection of him.

Everything had its place.

Everything was immaculate.

Everything about it whispered control.

Power. Restraint.

The appliances gleamed under the soft, diffused light filtering through the large windows. The island stretched like an altar, bare but for a glass bowl of fruit, each piece perfectly ripe, perfectly arranged. Even the cutting boards, stacked neatly by size, looked untouched. Like they were there for show.

It was unsettling.

And impressive.

Not just the order, but the obsessive need for it.

This house wasn’t a home.

It was a statement.

An extension of Reich.

A manifestation of disciplineand control.

And here I was.

This broken thing.

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