Snow continued to fall as Christien stepped out of his newest club and hit the streets of New York City, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. A gray turtleneck and maroon-colored pants completed his outfit, and coupled with his blond good looks and powerful build, the billionaire effortlessly drew looks wherever he went.

All of the women he walked past stared at him with blatant interest, hoping to catch his eye. But none of them did, just as none of them dared to approach the billionaire. The air of aloofness surrounding him was unassailable, and to say that he seemed to be in a bad mood would have been an understatement.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had drawn pleasure from anything, couldn’t remember the last time he had even felt like smiling. It had been so ever since he had started avoiding her.

When his phone buzzed in his coat’s pocket, he swiftly pulled it out, his heart beating hard. Of course, the irony wasn’t lost on him. It used to be that he had been the one dodging her calls, and yet now---

His day was no longer complete until he heard from her.

An acute sense of relief gripped his chest when he saw Kharis’ name on the screen, and he quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk and took cover from the snow under the awning of a medium-sized deli. He clicked on her message, and the moment her words appeared, the rest of the world faded. Even with the endless number of people streaming past the billionaire, their chatter adding to the noise of honking horns and yelling cab drivers – he saw nothing, heard nothing.

She was all that mattered.

Kharis: Hi! Are you busy?

Christien: Just out for a stroll. My meeting finished earlier than I expected.

His fingers hesitated before pressing Send. It used to be that he would finish his message with another question, not just because it was polite, but because he had genuinely wanted to know more about her and her day.

But that was then.

That was when he still thought he had the right to keep her in his life.

But it was different now, and after a moment, the billionaire sent the message without editing his words.

And then he waited.

It was the only thing he allowed himself to do these days.

He waited for her to call, waited for her to stop calling. He waited for her to ask questions, waited for her to break things off. He waited for what he both dreaded and wished because that was what knowing Kharis had turned him into.

His phone buzzed again, and he breathed hard.

She hadn’t given up on him then. She should’ve a long time ago, but she hadn’t yet. She hadn’t…and so he had another day to pretend.

Kharis: Where exactly are you strolling?

Christien: NYC.

Kharis: I see.

The billionaire’s jaw tightened. Please don’t fucking ask it. Please have some fucking pride.

Kharis: Maybe you can drive up to CT when you’re done?

Christien’s eyes closed. Kharis might just be seventeen, but she was no idiot. She would’ve been able to read the signs, and he hadn’t exactly been subtle about any of them. He no longer called her first, no longer mentioned anything about visiting her again – he no longer did anything that would tell Kharis he still wanted to be with her.

Kharis: I miss you.

Christien: I miss you, too.

Kharis: I don’t want to hear that.

Christien: Why the hell not?

Kharis: Because it used to be when I said I miss you, you’d come flying to me.

Kharis: And you don’t anymore.

Christien’s fingers tightened around his phone. If only she knew. If only she goddamn knew how much he wanted to see her. Hold her. Kiss her. But those were the things he wanted.

Kharis: I miss you.

His lips twisted as he read between the lines, knowing she might as well have typed something like, I’m giving you a second chance. Come here, now, please.

Sly, beautiful, foolish mutant.

What she wanted, he wanted, too – but he also knew that wanting wasn’t enough. It had to be the right thing to do, too, and that was the fucking problem here. He had never been confused about the difference between right and wrong…until now. His heart had never doubted what his mind decided was best…until now. He had always trusted himself to do what was expected…until now.

His eyes wanted to feast on the sight of Kharis. His mouth hungered for a taste of her, his hands craved the feel of her. His heart demanded to beat for her. Every part of his body desired to be hers…except for his mind.

His mind couldn’t forget Paul Stamos’ words, couldn’t bear the thought that he would destroy her without knowing. His mind told him to leave even as his empty heart demanded he stay.

Kharis: Christien?

Christien: I’m here.

Kharis: I really miss you.

Christien: I really miss you, too.

And he knew, just with those words, he might as well have said goodbye to her.

* * *

The last week of January rolled in with a blizzard that rendered most of the roads impassable, and along with it came the impending arrival of Kharis’ eighteenth birthday. She had been texting him nonstop about it, was adamant about not taking no for an answer despite all of his polite excuses.

Kharis: I’m not throwing a huge party or anything. I just want to be with you.

Christien: You should throw a party. You’re only eighteen once.

Kharis: I know, and I want to turn eighteen in your arms.

Christien: I can’t promise anything.

Kharis: Then don’t. Just be here.

“You alright?” Nick Christakos joined Christien in the smoking lounge, which was empty save for a couple making out in the corner. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, the Greek billionaire had recently broken the hearts of his thousands of fans when he recently made his relationship with Lilac York official.

Dropping his phone back in his jacket’s pocket, Christien turned to his friend, asking dismissively, “Why shouldn’t I be?” Tonight’s special event was another success, everyone was having fun, and he was making himself another small fortune because of it. What was there not to be happy about?

“I didn’t realize you’ve started smoking.” Nick’s tone was careful.

“I haven’t.” Christien’s tone was casual. “But I’ve been contemplating it.”

“Nothing against it,” Nick drawled, “but I don’t think it’s an effective remedy for what’s ailing you.” He saw his friend’s expression cool and sighed. “We know you too well, okay? So stop trying to hide that something’s fucking wrong.”

“Nothing’s fucking wrong.”

Christien’s tone was as icy as his expression now, but it only had Nick shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve helped me with a lot of things, Christien. At least let me return the favor, even if it’s just to tell you you’re an idiot.”

Christien flipped him the finger, but this only had his friend grinning. “Do you know that’s probably the first genuine emotion you’ve shown in God knows how long?”

“Never realized you were prone to exaggerate,” Christien mocked.

“I’m not.” Nick’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and silence fell between them. He waited for his friend to speak but when several moments passed with only Christien continuing to look at him with an impassive expression, Nick thought, fuck it.

Maybe he was being a meddling son of a bitch, but if that was what would keep his friend alive, then so fucking be it.

He said finally, “You haven’t been flying as much to Connecticut these days.”

Christien flashed a sardonic smile. “What’s this? You’re not satisfied playing my nanny, so you’ve resorted to stalking as well?”

But Nick simply went on like he didn’t hear Christien speak. “Did she break up with you?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Is her age still bothering you? Is that it?”

“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Christien turned away to leave.

“Did you find out she’s not what you think she is?” Nick persisted in asking. “Maybe she’s nothing but a gold-digger---”

In less than a moment, Christien had whirled around and slammed Nick against the wall, and the crashing sound had the couple kissing in the corner yelping and scrambling to leave.

“Don’t you fucking say anything like that about her,” Christien snarled. “You don’t know her the way I do. She’s not just some girl---”

“Isn’t she?” Nick challenged. “Because you’re not acting like it. You’re her fucking boyfriend, di Luca, and you haven’t been to see her for months, have you?”

Christien whitened. “I don’t have any choice.” He stepped back and let the other man go.

Still leaning against the wall, Nick shook his head at his friend. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You always have a choice. So why don’t you just admit it?”

Christien’s fists clenched. “I’m warning you, Christakos.”

“The way you’re treating her means she’s nothing. You don’t give a damn if you break that girl’s heart---”

“She’s the only girl that matters,” Christien exploded.

“Then why aren’t you with her?”

“Because I don’t know if I can ever love her the way I want to,” Christien roared. “I don’t fucking know.” He slammed his fist into the wall in impotent rage, and his knuckles immediately started to bleed. “I don’t fucking know.” And he struck the wall again, the emptiness in his heart making him numb to the pain. “And I can’t ever fucking know.”

“Christien---” The other man shook his head, and Nick’s lips compressed as Christien slowly turned away from the wall and seated himself on one of the empty recliners.

Elbows on his knees, Christien stared down at the floor sightlessly, his friend’s words repeating in his head like inescapable echoes of his guilt.

The way you’re treating her means she’s nothing.

You don’t give a damn if you break that girl’s heart.

Bleakness made his throat tighten, and Christien swallowed hard.

“It was different when I only needed her to be the one I’m looking for. I didn’t care about hurting her. I was actually fucking confident I wouldn’t hurt her because I had been pretending to be someone else all my life. So why not pretend to be the kind of man she wants? But then things started to change. I started caring for her. I started wanting her to be that person – and that was when I knew I had to stay away.”

Christien leaned back and ran a weary hand over his face as his eyes closed.

“I can’t risk being wrong about her, Nick. Because if I’m wrong, the way I’m hurting her now will be nothing to how I’d hurt her then---” He inhaled harshly. “I can’t let her love me, knowing that I can still want to kill myself.”

Nick’s chest heaved at the despair that enveloped his friend. All of Christien’s words made sense. They always did, but then…that was the problem in the first place. The plane crash that had taken away Christien di Luca’s parents hadn’t just left Nick’s friend orphaned. It had also damaged him, making Christien’s brain incapable of processing emotions the way normal people did.

There wasn’t even a damn term for what Christien suffered, and the closest label that the doctors had been able to come up with was depression and – in worst case scenario – schizophrenia, of all fucking things.

Glancing back at his friend, Nick chose his next words with extreme care, realizing now just how close Christien was to losing it. “I get where you’re coming from,” he said slowly, “and I get why you’re afraid. And yes, I do fucking understand that maybe you can’t ever know if you really love her---” He paused. “But maybe she can? Maybe she’s the one who can see what you can’t? Feel what you can’t? So the question is – have you ever given her the chance to show you why she thinks you love her?”

* * *

Christien: Kharis, I know – or at least I hope you’re receiving my messages. Please call me.

Christien: I know you’re angry, maybe you even hate me, and I know you have every right to be. But please, can we just talk?

Christien: Please just call me. Please.

The billionaire had lost count of the number of messages he had sent to Kharis, all of which he had also emailed to her. He knew he was the epitome of desperation right now, but he didn’t give a damn. It was true, anyway. He was desperate.

As he stepped out of his private jet, he immediately placed a call to her phone, and his chest tightened when it went straight to her voicemail – again.

“Kharis, it’s me.” The billionaire’s voice was taut and stiff. “Christien.” Goddammit, he sounded like an idiot. “I would really appreciate it if you could answer my call.” He paused then added tightly, “Please.”

And so it continued, with the billionaire alternately sending text and voice messages to Kharis throughout the thirty-minute ride to her place. By the time he made it to the Tudor mansion he had purchased for Kharis and her grandfather, it was a few minutes past one in the morning, and the whole place was dark and quiet.

What if they were away?

How much time would it take to find out where they went?

And what would he do if Kharis were now with another man?

Kill whoever the other man was, the billionaire decided resolutely and unhesitatingly, before locking himself in a room with Kharis until she remembered that she loved him.

“Sir?” As his employer turned to face him, Elmer gulped nervously before asking, “Shall I wait with the security team?”

The question had his bodyguards looking down at their feet, and Christien’s lips twisted in a humorless smile. That his field team was intuitive enough to understand how rocky things were between him and Kharis didn’t come as a surprise, but it also unfortunately underscored the gravity of the situation---

And the increasing possibility, Christien thought grimly, that Kharis wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him.

“You can call it a day,” the billionaire said finally. “I’ll contact you if I need you.” And in the event that Kharis did refuse to see him, having to walk to Nightmare wouldn’t be enough of a punishment.

Soon enough, the billionaire was alone, with his bodyguards leaving to secure the premises. His hand curled around the key inside his pocket, but something was still holding him back. He found himself looking up at Kharis’ bedroom window---

Between the two of them, it should’ve been Kharis blowing hot and cold, Kharis who had every right to have trouble making up her mind because she was young, innocent, and inexperienced.

And yet…he was the one who had turned his back on her.

Twice.