Just as Leroy reached out to steady her, a strong arm swept in and pulled Arya into a firm embrace.
Leroy froze, caught off guard. When he turned, his gaze met a pair of piercing, enigmatic eyes–eyes that belonged to Finn.
He radiated an imposing energy, something cold and commanding that made it impossible to ignore his presence.
While Leroy was still sizing him up, Finn spoke, voice calm but carrying a blade’s edge. “Did you make my wife drink that much?”
Though the question was delivered with collected air, it sent a chill crawling up Leroy’s spine.
Even someone like him, who’d been through enough to stop flinching at most things, couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver.
So the rumors were true–Finn was exactly as ruthless and untouchable as people said.
“Mr. Barnett,” Leroy said smoothly once he gathered himself, lips curving into a relaxed smile. “Arya invited me out for a drink.”
“Arya?” Finn’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re on a first–name basis with her?”
Something in that stare made Leroy’s skin prickle.
It was strange, really. He thought, ‘Could it be that this cold, aloof man actually likes Arya?‘
“She and I have been close friends for years,” he replied, attempting to defuse the tension. “We-”
But Finn was no longer listening. His attention had turned back to Arya in his arms, limp and drunkenly mumbling against his chest. With effortless ease, he lifted her off the ground and headed toward the Maybach parked at the curb.
Leroy watched them go, shaking his head with a quiet exhale. “Talk about meeting your match,” he muttered. “With a guy like Barnett… Arya’s probably
in for one hell of a ride.”
As Finn carried Arya to the car, she kept squirming, breath reeking of alcohol. “C’mon! One more round! No going home sober tonight!”
He said nothing, but his jaw tightened.
So this was what she turned into when she drank–rowdy and reckless.
Yeah, this couldn’t happen again. This girl needed someone to stop her before she got herself killed.
In the front seat, Finn settled Arya down, then leaned in to fasten her seatbelt.
Just as his hands reached for the strap, she stirred and whispered something that froze him in place. “Silas… is that you?”
His entire body went still.
Silas? A name, just a name, but the sound of it sent a strange jolt through him.
Arya seemed to see Silas appearing in front of her.
And then she looked at him, not quite seeing, eyes hazy and vulnerable, and said, “You came back, didn’t you? I knew you wouldn’t just leave me like
that…”
His eyes narrowed.
He remembered the first time he met her–how she clawed her way through chaos, spine straight even when everything else in her world was falling
apart.
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Chapter 35
But now she looked fragile. Soft in a way he wasn’t used to seeing.
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He was nervous.
He wondered, ‘That softness.. It isn’t for me. It’s for him. Silas. Who the hell is this guy? Does she actually like him? Is that why she misses him when
she’s drunk?‘
Arya whispered again, eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, Silas. I shouldn’t have-”
Finn grabbed her wrist sharply, snapping, “Arya, open your eyes. Look at me. I’m not Silas–I’m Finn.”
She flinched from the sudden grip, brows knitting at the sting.
Blinking, she finally saw him clearly. The illusion shattered.
The tenderness in her expression was gone, replaced by startled confusion.
“Finn?” she murmured.
Then her fingers reached up and pinched his cheek with a pout. “What are you doing in my dream? Where’s Silas?”
The temperature in the car seemed to drop a few degrees.
Only someone important appeared in dreams.
A man who lingered like that, even in sleep–he had to mean something. So Silas really was someone special to her.
He thought, ‘Then why agree to marry me?‘
Finn’s jaw tensed. Without another word, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Listen to me carefully,” he said, voice like stone. “You’re mine now. I don’t care what you dream about, I won’t have you thinking of anyone else–not even in sleep.”
And with that, he kissed her.
The kiss was rough, punishing, laced with cold fury.
Arya only felt that breathing became more and more difficult.
She tried to pull away, hands pushing against his chest, gasping, “Let me go! Finn, stop!”
But to him, her struggle was just another form of rejection, and rejection only made him kiss her harder.
Until, finally, she fell asleep.
Finn pulled away, staring down at the unconscious girl in his arms.
His anger swirled uselessly in the air between them.
He buckled her in, slid into the driver’s seat, and drove back to the estate in silence.
The next day, Arya woke with a pounding headache, the kind that made her skull feel like it was about to split open.
Bits and pieces of the previous night floated back to her–drinks by the river with Leroy, a breeze on her face, laughter echoing in the dark. But somewhere between the second and third round, everything went black.
Groaning, she sat up and gave her forehead a couple of light snacks.
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Chapter 35
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She thought, ‘Stupid. I should’ve known better. Ever since I moved back in with the Keller family, I’ve barely touched alcohol. One night out and I’m back to square one like I never learned how to drink in the first place.’
But then she paused. This wasn’t her bedroom.
She blinked, taking in the space around her.
The whole room screamed masculinity–gray bed, gray wardrobe, gray carpet, even a gray painting hanging on the wall.
She wondered, ‘Seriously, what is with all the damn gray?‘
As she lifted the blanket, intending to get out of bed, a cold shock jolted through her. She was wearing nothing but an oversized men’s dress shirt. And underneath was nothing.
Her heart skipped a beat. Where were her clothes? Who the hell had changed her?
Her eyes widened.
C
She thought, ‘No way. Did something happen last night? Did he do something unforgivable
me?
‘Leroy? That bastard! He wouldn’t have dared… would he? If he laid a hand on me, I swear I’ll kill him with my bare hands.‘
“Awake?” The deep, cool voice cut through the air.
Startled, Arya looked up.
Leaning against the doorway was a man dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark lounge pants, his sleeves casually rolled, his expression unreadable. Those familiar eyes met hers, steady and intense.
Of course. That ridiculously perfect face. Who else could it be?
“Finn?” Her voice cracked slightly. “What… What am I doing here? With you?”
He didn’t move, but his gaze darkened, something sharp flickering beneath the surface. “Disappointed to see me?”
Arya stared at him in disbelief. ‘What’s his problem now? Is he really giving his attitude because he didn’t find his long–lost lover?”
She thought, ‘And to think–I actually felt sorry for him when I met His mother, when I imagined what kind of childhood he must’ve had.
‘Serves me right. I should’ve known better than to waste sympathy on a
Her tone chilled as she asked, “What’s that supposed to mean, Finn?”
“Nothing,” he replied smoothly, though his eyes said otherwise.
cold–blooded jerk.’
Something was lurking behind that calm, something dangerous. “Who is Silas to you?”
The color drained from Arya’s face. “You’ve been looking into me?”
The
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