“My father rushed home when he heard the news. I don’t think he truly believed my mother, his wife, was gone until he saw her body. And when he did…I’d never heard anyone cry like that. Sometimes, I can still hear it. It was almost inhuman.” Xavier brushed his fingers over the pocket watch, his expression taut. “He loved my mother more than anyone else in the world. They’d met in college, the aspiring businessman and the heiress who fell in love with his charm, his ambition, his loyalty. She was the reason why he worked so hard to build the Castillo Group, and when she died, a part of him died with her.”

Xavier lifted his head again, his gaze clouded with decades-old anguish. “He blamed me. After her funeral, he told me he wished I were the one who’d died instead of her. He was drunk at the time. Really drunk. But I’ve never forgotten those words. The truth always comes out when our inhibitions come down.”

I couldn’t breathe through the knots in my chest.

I had a shitty family, but I couldn’t imagine a parent saying that to their child. Xavier had been ten. He’d been just a kid.

“The thing is, I didn’t blame him,” he said. “Not at first. It was my fault. If I hadn’t been stupid enough to light that one damn candle, there wouldn’t have been a fire, and my mother would still be alive. But the older I got, the more I…” Xavier faltered. “I don’t know. I got angry too. Anger was easier to swallow than guilt, and my father was right there, taking his rage out on me. Physically, mentally, emotionally. He still wanted me to take over the company because he had no other choice. I was his only heir. But outside of that obligation, he hated me, and I hated him back.” He tapped a tattoo on his bicep. It featured the family crest for the Castillos’ biggest rival and had set social media ablaze when he first got it. “One year, I came home with this, and I left with scars.”

My stomach roiled at his matter-of-fact tone.

“My father was the only parent I had left,” Xavier said. “It should’ve brought us closer, but it drove us apart. Every time we were together, we were reminded of who was missing, and it hurt too much. So we lashed out in our different ways, and by the time I graduated college, I was done. I didn’t want anything to do with him or the company—except when it came to money. It doesn’t reflect well on me, but it’s the truth.”

Heavy silence descended, punctuated by the soft burble of water and faint music from inside the hotel.

Xavier stared at where my hand rested over his, a thousand emotions passing over his face before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” He let out a rueful laugh. “This was supposed to be a beautiful dinner, and I dragged you into the most morbid conversation possible.” He tried to pull his hand away, but I stopped him with a firmer grip.

He’d been there for me at the hospital, in Spain after my father’s email, and in a dozen other situations and ways he didn’t know mattered as much as they did.

It was my turn to be there for him.

“This is a beautiful dinner. Coconut puffs are the way to my heart,” I said, earning myself a shadow of a smile. “But before I say what I’m about to say, I want you to know two things. One, I’m terrible at comforting people. I have no talent or desire to do so, and tears make me uncomfortable. Two, I hate platitudes. They’re fake and stupid. So I want you to listen carefully when I say this: It wasn’t your fault. You were a kid, and it was an accident.” I squeezed his hand, wishing I could imprint my sincerity into his skin because I meant every word. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Xavier’s eyes gleamed bright and turbulent. Playboy, heir, hedonist, flirt—those masks were gone, leaving only the man in their place. Raw in his vulnerability, flawed in many ways, and marred by cracks and bruises beneath a deceptively polished façade.

I looked at him, and I’d never seen anyone more beautiful.

His hand curled around mine and squeezed. Just once. Just enough to jump start a piece of my heart I’d never known existed. Then the cracks sealed, the bruises faded, and he stood, withdrawing his hand from mine to pull his shirt over his head.

I was so thrown by the sudden shift in atmosphere that I didn’t find my voice until he was halfway to the pool. “What are you doing?”

“Skinny-dipping.” His pants joined his shirt on the ground.

“You can’t skinny-dip here,” I hissed, glancing around. “There are security cameras, and someone could come out any second.”

“No one will come out unless we call them. Even if they do, they can’t see anything if we’re in the pool.” Xavier shed his boxers, his smile containing equal parts challenge and amusement. “Come on, Luna. Don’t make me do this alone.”

He stood in front of the pool, all bronzed skin and sculpted muscle, as naked and unabashed as a Greek statue come to life. Soft lights spilled over the hard contours of his body, tracing the ridges of his abs and the strong, lean sinew of his legs.

A hot ripple wavered through me, coupled with a surprising pinch of envy.

What would it feel like to be that carefree and spontaneous? To do something I wanted without worrying about the consequences?

Oh, what the hell. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the goods before.

I made an impulse decision and stood before I changed my mind. Xavier’s eyes darkened as I walked toward him, shedding my dress, tights, and underwear with each step.

By the time I reached him, I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, and it felt good. More than good. It felt freeing.

“Stunning,” he whispered, and I felt that one word from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

We sank into the pool, our movements languid as we relished the silky, heated waters. We didn’t talk; we simply floated there, unburdened by the weight of our clothes and long-hidden secrets, our fingers interlacing more out of habit than thought.

It was impossible to see stars in the city sky, but the quiet, the warmth, and the fragrance of exotic blooms jeweling the air transformed our little pocket of New York into a magical secret world, at least for tonight.

Our lives weren’t perfect, but here, together, we were at peace.

CHAPTER 29

Xavier

I hadn’t planned on telling Sloane about my past. I’d never told anyone what happened with the fire, but there was something about last night, the way she looked at me, and the ease I felt around her that pulled the words out of me before I processed what was happening.

Once they were out, it was like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how much the poison from my past was eating me up inside until I expunged it, and not only did Sloane listen without judgment, but she’d comforted me afterward.

Sloane Kensington didn’t comfort people, but she’d comforted me. If I’d ever thought I could walk away from her before, last night confirmed I couldn’t.

Thanks to her, I also showed up to Vuk’s office on Friday morning armed with my new strategy. I didn’t bring slide decks or shiny handouts; I didn’t even bring my old bar sketches. I simply told him the truth. My fractured relationship with my father, my refusal to take over his company out of fear and spite, his death and my mother’s letter…everything I shared with Sloane, I reframed into a story that wasn’t just about numbers; it was about the heart behind them.

“You’re worried the club will crash and burn if my inheritance committee doesn’t rule in my favor come May,” I said. “I would be too if I were in your shoes. But here’s the thing: I’m no longer doing it for my inheritance.” Vuk’s eyebrows notched up. “I’m no longer doing it just for my inheritance,” I amended. “My entire life, I relied on what other people gave me. I lived off something I didn’t build, and I told myself I was okay with it because I didn’t have the courage to stray from that path. But this club? Everything I’ve achieved so far? That’s mine, and I’m fucking proud of it.”

I’d had help along the way because no one built an empire alone. But the vision and execution were mine, and I hadn’t fucked them up so far. Things were going well, as well as starting a new business in the city could possibly go, and it made me think I could do this—take the Castillo name and make it my own.

“I would love to have you as a partner,” I said. As expected, Vuk hadn’t said a word during my spiel, but his eyes appeared marginally warmer than they had when I arrived. Either that, or I was delirious from lack of sleep. “But if you say no, the club will still open. If I don’t secure the vault, I’ll find another location. It’s not ideal, but business isn’t always about the ideal. It’s about getting things done, and I’ll get it done with or without you.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “However, I’d much rather do it with you. So.” I nodded at the contract on his desk. “What’s your answer? Are you going to take the risk, or are you going to play it safe?”

It was a gamble, provoking Vuk like that. Without him, my path to opening the club would be that much harder, but I would figure it out. I hadn’t realized it until I’d said it out loud, but I wasn’t lying when I’d said I could do it on my own. I’d have to fight like hell, and I probably wouldn’t sleep from now until May, but people had overcome worse obstacles to achieve their goals.

If they could do it, so could I.

Vuk studied me, his eyes so pale they were nearly colorless. He didn’t move. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.

I maintained his gaze, my heart pounding to an ominous rhythm.

Then, after an endless, agonizing silence, and without saying a single word, Vuk Markovic slid the contract toward him, picked up his pen, and signed on the dotted line.

I did it.

I fucking did it.

Vuk was officially my business partner, and with his stamp of approval, the rest of the pieces fell into place. That night, Sloane and I celebrated with food, wine, a so-bad-it-was-good rom-com, and lots of sex (obviously).

I also had the personal pleasure of delivering the news to Alex over the phone. He greeted the update with as much emotion as a block of granite, but he did sign off with something that made me smile.