Georgia’s POV
"H-how did you know I was here?" My breath caught the second Nick appeared in front of . My heart stuttered—half from shock, half from relief. It was as if he had been pulled straight to , like he could sense I needed him most in this mont.
Happiness rushed through , but worry lingered like a shadow. I didn’t want him to know what happened between and his mother. Not now. Not while my mind was still in chaos. But the way he looked at ... the way his words cut through the air... it felt like he already knew.
"It doesn’t matter how," he said, voice low but steady, every syllable grounding . "What matters is I’m here now. Tell —what did Violet say to you?" he said while wiping my tears with his bare hands.
I blinked at him, startled by the sharpness in how he said ’Violet’ instead of ’Mother’. For a mont, my chest tightened. Could I really tell him everything? What if he chose blood, family, and the empire waiting for him over ? What if their relationship is already not good, and I made it worse?
Gathering my courage, I managed, "I’m just... sad that you got entangled in my brother’s death when you’re innocent. That your family has to suffer the humiliation, the criticism. You don’t deserve any of this." My voice wavered, my heart torn between wanting to confide and wanting to protect him.
His jaw tightened, fury flickering in his eyes. "That witch brought it up, didn’t she? Is that why you’re crying like this?"
I flinched. "W-witch? Nick—she’s your mother. How could you call her that?" I whispered, feeling a different kind of ache settle in. There was sothing he wasn’t telling , sothing buried deep beneath the surface of his anger.
His gaze softened suddenly, and he reached for my hand, his grip warm, sure, steadying the storm inside . "Georgia... co with . Sowhere private. I want to explain everything—no more secrets, no more walls. I want you to see , to understand ... fully. Stay at my place tonight. Please."
My lips parted, my pulse racing. The way he said it, raw, sincere, like it was both a plea and a promise, made my chest tighten in the most dizzying, dangerous way. In that mont, all I could think of was how much I wanted to believe him. How much I wanted to fall.
"Okay," I said softly, though my nerves danced like sparks under my skin. "But I need to go ho to grab a few things... and I have to leave my car there."
Nick didn’t hesitate. He simply nodded, rising to his feet with that commanding presence that always seed to shift the air around him. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Can you head to zza now? I’ll book you a ride. I’ll leave the car key with the restaurant’s manager. After that, go to the address I’m sending you—soone will hand you sothing. Bring it straight to my penthouse." His tone was clipped, decisive.
I bit my lip as I watched him, the weight of his authority impossible to ignore. It was sexy as hell. And I can’t believe that this guy in front of is my man. Mine.
Whoever was on the other end didn’t argue. Nick ended the call, then stayed on his phone a little longer, his thumb moving swiftly—probably booking the ride he ntioned.
Curiosity got the best of . "Who was that?" I asked, tilting my head.
He glanced at , eyes warm now, in contrast to the sharpness in his voice monts ago. "One of our drivers. He’ll take your car to your house and pick up what you need. Call Wendy so she can pack the things you need."
Then he did sothing that lted every ounce of resistance inside . He extended his hand toward with a smile that seed to lift my worries away. No hesitation. No question. Just certainty.
And like it was the most natural thing in the world, I slipped my hand into his.
"Co on," he said. "Let’s get you settled in my car. I’ll ask the restaurant manager here to hold onto your keys—it’ll just take a few minutes. I’ll tell them it’s an ergency."
Before I could even process it, he was already leading out of the car, his grip firm yet gentle.
The mont Nick closed the passenger door beside , I pulled out my phone and called Wendy. Through the window, I watched him stride back into the restaurant, tall and certain in his steps, his presence pulling at even when he wasn’t near.
I tried focusing on Wendy’s voice, but my mind kept wandering back to him—his voice, his eyes, his timing, the comfort he gave .
Just minutes ago, I’d been drowning in the weight of Violet’s words, hollow and shaken. But now? Now, it was as if Nick had stord in and swept every dark thought clean out of .
By the ti he returned, my heart was already racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the phone in my hand. It’s going to be my first ti going to his place.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked the second he slipped into the driver’s seat, his tone firm yet tender, the anger I saw earlier in his eyes when he spoke of Violet’s na—gone. "The waiter said you didn’t touch your food."
I bit my lip, half-embarrassed, half-teasing. "A burger. Let’s just drive through the nearest fast-food store."
He nodded, like it was the most important order he’d ever taken. Then, without warning, his hand slid over mine. He lifted it slowly, and pressed a kiss against the back of it. My breath hitched.
"So..." his eyes flicked to , a playful curve at his lips, "burgers are your comfort food."
Before I could co up with a witty retort, he leaned in and stole a kiss—quick but deep enough to leave stunned. My pulse went wild, my cheeks burned, and I forgot all about breathing.
"I missed you," he murmured softly, the words brushing against my lips, before he leaned back, buckled his seatbelt, and started the car.
anwhile, I sat frozen in the passenger seat—speechless, wide-eyed, and so red I could feel the heat climbing all the way to my ears.
How was I supposed to recover from that? It was a whirlwind of emotions in less than an hour.
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