The city lights kept bleeding through the blinds, painting thin silver stripes across Xander's face. He hadn't let go of her yet. His arms were still locked around her waist, chin resting on the top of her head like he was afraid the second he loosened his grip she'd vanish into the night.
Evelyn's heart was still hammering from the kiss. Her lips felt swollen, sensitive, and every time she swallowed she tasted him, whiskey, salt, and something darker she couldn't name.
She pulled back just enough to look up at him. "You're shaking."
Xander gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Turns out confessing your biggest sin to the woman who could bury you tends to do that."
"I'm not burying anyone." Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. "Not tonight."
His eyes searched hers. "Then why are you still here, Evelyn? You've got everything you need now. The crash, the lie, the facility, Austin and Mia. You could walk out that door, make one call, and this entire empire comes crashing down. Why haven't you?"
She opened her mouth and closed it. The truth felt too big, too messy, too dangerous to say out loud.
"Because…" She swallowed. "Because I believe you."
The words landed between them like stones dropped in still water. Ripples spread across his face, shock, relief, disbelief, all at once.
"You believe me," he repeated slowly, like he was tasting the sentence.
"Yeah." She nodded once. "I believe you didn't mean for any of this to happen. I believe you've been bleeding yourself dry for three years trying to fix something that can't be fixed. And I believe you're terrified that if the world finds out, they'll take the last thing you have left, your brother."
Xander's throat worked. He looked away, jaw tight. "You make it sound almost noble."
"It's not noble. It's human and humans are messy."
She reached up, touched the side of his face. His stubble scraped her palm.
"You're allowed to be messy, Xander."
He caught her wrist gently. Held it there against his cheek.
"I've spent so long pretending I'm not. Pretending I'm in control. Pretending I don't wake up some nights hearing the tires scream and metal crumpling and thinking maybe I should've just let the car keep rolling."
Evelyn's chest ached. "You didn't kill him."
"I might as well have."
"No." She stepped closer, pressed her body against his until there was no space left. "You made a choice in the worst moment of your life. A stupid, desperate, human choice. That doesn't make you a monster. It makes you someone who's been carrying too much weight alone for too long."
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were wet. Not tears, not quite, but close enough that it hurt to look at.
"I don't know how to put it down," he whispered.
"Then let me help you carry it. Just for tonight."
Something shifted in his expression. The hard edges softened. He looked at her like she was the first real thing he'd seen in years.
"Okay," he said, voice rough. "But if we're doing this, if we're really doing this, then no more games. No more pretending. You want the truth? You get all of it. The ugly parts. The parts that make me look weak. The parts that scare me."
"I'm not scared of you, Xander."
"You should be."
She smiled, small, sad, real. "Maybe. But I'm not."
He studied her for a long moment. Then he bent and kissed her forehead. Soft, almost reverent. "Come on."
He took her hand and led her out of the office, down the quiet hallway, past the empty conference rooms and the security desk where Victor sat pretending not to notice them. The private elevator ride to the penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of machinery and the way their breathing seemed to sync up.
When the doors opened, the apartment was dark. Only the city glows and a few low lamps. Xander didn't turn on the overhead lights. He just walked her straight to the master bedroom.
Evelyn's stomach flipped when she saw the massive bed, dark sheets, pillows that looked too perfect to touch.
He stopped in the doorway. "You can have the guest room. Or the couch. Or I can sleep on the floor. Whatever you need."
She shook her head. "I want to stay here. With you."
His shoulders dropped a fraction, like he'd been holding his breath. "You sure?"
"I'm sure."
He nodded once. Then he walked to the bathroom, came back with a bottle of lotion and a clean white T-shirt that smelled like him, cedar and clean cotton.
"Turn around," he said quietly.
She did.
His fingers found the zipper of her dress. Slow. Careful. The fabric slid down her back, cool air kissing her skin. She stepped out of it, stood there in her bra and panties, feeling exposed in a way that had nothing to do with being half-naked.
He didn't stare. Didn't leer. He just took the T-shirt, helped her slip it over her head. The hem fell to mid-thigh. His shirt on her body felt like armor and surrendered at the same time.
"Lie down," he murmured.
She climbed onto the bed. The sheets were cool against her legs. Xander kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt but left it on. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress, back to her.
"Give me your hand."
She did.
He poured a small amount of lotion into his palm, warmed it between his hands, then took her right hand in both of his.
His thumbs pressed into the center of her palm, slow circles. Firm and steady. The tension she hadn't realized she was carrying started to melt.
"You're always so tense here," he said softly. "Like you're ready to fight or run at any second."
"I usually am."
"Not tonight."
He worked up her forearm, over the elbow, along the bicep. Every stroke felt like he was erasing something, fear, suspicion, the weight of the badge she still carried in secret.
When he reached her shoulder, he shifted behind her, knees bracketing her hips. His chest pressed lightly against her back, warm and solid.
"Lean back," he whispered.
She did.
His hands moved to her neck. Thumbs along the base of her skull, fingers splaying across her collarbone, slowly, and deep. Every press sent little sparks down her spine.
A small sound escaped her throat, half sigh, half moan.
Xander's breath hitched against her ear. "Tell me if it's too much."
"It's not."
His lips brushed the side of her neck. Not a kiss, just contact with warm breath. The faint scrape of stubble.
"You carry everything here," he murmured, fingers kneading the tight muscles at the top of her shoulders. "The case, the lies, me, it's too heavy."
She closed her eyes. "I'm used to being heavy."
"You shouldn't have to be."
His hands slid down her arms again, then back up, under the sleeves of the T-shirt, skin on skin now. Goosebumps followed his touch.
She turned her head slightly. "Xander…"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because you let me confess." His voice was low, rough. "Because you didn't run. Because for the first time in years someone looked at me and didn't see a monster or a billionaire or a suspect. They saw… me."
Her heart squeezed. She reached back, found his thigh, squeezed.
"I see you."
He groaned softly. His forehead dropped to her shoulder. "God, Evelyn."
They stayed like that for long minutes, his hands on her shoulders, her hand on his leg, breathing in sync.
Then his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again, insistent.
He swore under his breath, reached over, glanced at the screen.
His entire body went rigid.
"What?" Evelyn asked, twisting to look.
He showed her.
Unknown number.
One message.
I know what you told her.
And I know what she really is.
See attached.
A photo loaded slowly.
It was grainy, taken from a distance, but unmistakable.
Evelyn, standing outside Scotland Yard headquarters, three weeks before she started at Voss Industries. Detective badge visible on her belt. Talking to another officer.
Xander's voice came out flat. Deadly calm.
"Who else knows you're a cop?"
Evelyn's stomach dropped through the floor.
She stared at the photo like it might disappear if she blinked.
Then she looked up at him.
The softness was gone.
The man who'd just poured his soul out to her was staring back with the cold, calculating eyes of someone who'd survived too many betrayals.
And in that moment, she realized the cliff they'd been standing on had just crumbled beneath their feet.