Chapter 3

Aubree didn't push. She stopped a foot from Kai's chest.

"Let me through. I need to see Ezra," she demanded, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart.

Kai didn't move an inch. "You've done enough damage to Mr. Phillips. Stay away from him," he sneered.

Another bodyguard, Leo Vance, walked over, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

Aubree's patience snapped. "Ezra!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. It wasn't a plea; it was a summons.

Kai's jaw tightened. He reached for the radio on his belt, pressing his finger to his earpiece, waiting for the authorization from the penthouse to have her removed.

Suddenly, a low, raspy voice crackled through Kai's earpiece. Kai's hand froze. His expression twisted into deep reluctance.

He took a deep breath, dropped his arm, and stepped aside, jerking his chin toward the doors.

Aubree didn't hesitate. She lunged into the private elevator.

The doors slid shut. The elevator shot upward. Aubree leaned against the cold metal wall, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked down at her muddy boots and her bleeding palms, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths.

Ding.

The doors opened to the penthouse. The air inside was freezing. The minimalist apartment was dark, the only light coming from the city skyline.

She saw him immediately.

Ezra sat in a wheelchair facing the glass, his broad back stiff. His right leg was stretched out, encased in a thick white cast.

Hearing her footsteps, Ezra used his hands to turn the wheelchair around.

His deep, dark eyes locked onto hers. There was no warmth, only a chilling emptiness. He looked at her like she was nothing.

Tears instantly flooded Aubree's eyes. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to walk toward him.

Ezra watched her approach, his jaw ticking. The veins on the back of his hands bulged as he gripped the armrests.

"What are you doing here?" his voice cut through the dark room like a blade.

Aubree stopped in front of him. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off, a self-deprecating smirk twisting his lips.

"I'm leaving New York. Leaving all the space for you and Foster Newton. You don't need to come here to make sure I'm really gone," Ezra said, his tone dripping with ice.

The words stabbed her. She shook her head violently, tears flying from her cheeks.

"No, it's not like that-"

Ezra's eyes turned lethal. "Drop the act!" he shouted. "I am sick of your games!"

He pointed a shaking finger toward the elevator.

"Get out."

The raw hatred in his eyes broke her. Her knees gave out.

She dropped, landing hard on her knees right in front of his wheelchair.

Ezra flinched, his pupils dilating in shock. He instinctively tried to push the wheelchair backward.

Aubree lunged forward and grabbed his large, freezing hand, wrapping both of hers around it.

She looked up at him, her face wet with tears, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry. I was so stupid."

Ezra pressed his lips into a thin line. He tried to yank his hand away.

Aubree refused to let go, her fingernails digging into his skin.

"I don't want you to go!" she cried out. "I like you!"

The confession exploded in the quiet room.

Ezra's entire body went rigid. He stared down at the girl kneeling at his feet, his chest heaving. He searched her face, trying to find the lie.

The silence stretched.

Ezra's Adam's apple bobbed. When he finally spoke, his voice was terrifyingly hoarse.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"