“None.”
Violet’s lightness fades as her smile falters, and she sighs. “I’m tired, Mags. Of swiping left and right, of awkward small talk, of first dates that make me wish I’d just stayed home with sushi and Netflix. I’m one more awful date away from getting twelve cats.”
“Please don’t do that. You deserve someone who feels like home.”
Her gaze softens. “That might be Elias. I’ve never felt this before.”
A beat of quiet, then she laughs. “Wouldn’t it be kind of perfect if our babies were cousins?”
My chest tightens with affection. “You don’t know how much I would love that.”
Violet lifts her glass. “To big moves and even bigger what-ifs.”
I raise my mug of cold coffee in return. “To new chapters.”
We end the call, and I set my phone down, my heart full. Maybe Violet coming to Sydney won’t just change her life. Maybe it’ll complete mine as well.
Chapter 13
Magnolia Steel
The restaurant is dim and polished, all brass accents and low candlelight. A place designed to seduce with sophistication. Fitting, I suppose.
I sit in a private corner booth, posture poised, breath steady, but my pulse is a war drum beneath my skin. I lift my glass and take a slow sip of wine. On the outside––calm, composed, untouchable.
Inside, I’m buzzing. Not with nerves. With resolve.
Alex would burn the world down to protect me. I’ve seen it in his eyes whenever Celeste’s name comes up or at the mention of Tyson. But this meeting isn’t about Tyson. It’s about her.
This is about shutting the door—for good—on a chapter I don’t want bleeding into the life Alex and I are building. I’m not here to make peace. I’m here to draw the line. Because I love him too much to let old ghosts haunt what we’re creating. And if telling her to fuck off forever protects that peace, I’ll do it with a smile on my face.
Even if it means sitting down with the last woman on earth I ever want to see again.
The hostess leads her in from across the restaurant, and Celeste follows with a stride that suggests the world parts for her on command. She’s walking as though she’s the best thing since champagne on ice, looking every inch the cover of Vogue Sydney. Sculpted blazer. Impeccable blowout. Lipstick sharp enough to draw blood.
She hasn’t seen me yet. But then she does. And in an instant, the shine slips for a moment. A single breath.
Surprise. Confusion. A flicker of fear.
Her manicured fingers tighten around the strap of her bag.
“Celeste.” I nod to the seat across from me. “Sit down. We need to talk—woman to woman.”
She doesn’t move.
“I know. You were expecting Krishna. I asked her to invite you on my behalf since I was certain you wouldn’t show for me. She’s not coming. It’s only you and me.”
Her mouth opens. Closes. A slow blink. Then, without a word, she slides into the booth across from me, the stiffness in her spine giving her away.
I rest my hands together on the table. “This ends today.”
She doesn’t flinch, not right away—but her silence is a crack in the armor. One I’ve been waiting for.
I don’t waste time. I don’t need to scream to be heard.
“This campaign you’re on to win Alex back is more than old, Celeste. It’s pathetic.”
Her jaw tightens, but she still doesn’t speak. Funny. She’s always had plenty to say in the past.
