The sunrise kisses the beautiful length of Lilah's body. She lays half-turned onto her stomach, splayed out naked on the bed. I detach myself with care, stifling a yawn when she makes a soft murmuring sound, on the edge of sleep. The light will wake her when she's ready. I don't dare disturb her sleep.

She's gorgeous. Light and shadow play along her curves. Muscles ripple and shift under her skin as she flops over onto her back. I had hoped to watch her sleep awhile but she's awake now with half-lidded eyes, watching me in the dawning light.

She sits up, propped up on her elbows, and yawns. It's a battle to keep my hands off her skin. I throw the sheets over us and tuck up to her.

"We don't have to get up yet," I tell her.

"Don't we have to fly back to the city?"

I pull her close. "Yes. Gloria will be at the apartment with the boys. She'll be testy if we're late, and I filed a flight plan for the trip back. We actually do have to get up now."

Lilah sighs, her breath tickling my neck. "I don't want to."

"I know," I say, drawing out of the bed.

At least I get the treat of watching her emerge from bed and stand. She repeats the same routine every morning—she stands up, spreads her legs, and rises on the balls of her feet to yawn and stretch and pop her back. It's entrancing, a savory treat. I could watch her strut around naked all day.

Instead I'm treated to the sight of her dressing. There's something uniquely satisfying about watching a woman dress the morning after she's been fucked out of her mind. Lilah moves differently now, holds herself differently. No longer does she curve her shoulders in or hunch down. She stands proud, chest out, and is oblivious to me staring at her long legs or her breasts as she chooses an outfit, or the way her perfect ass jiggles in her underwear as she walks around the room.

The show comes to an end. She catches on and finishes dressing more slowly. Now that I've seen what lies beneath her clothes, I can read every hint of her curves and voluptuous shape beneath them. Every movement is a flirtation, every look an invitation.

I dress much faster than she does. I laid out everything last night. It's efficient. A habit.

We skip breakfast and head for the airfield. I have to fuel and run the final checks over the plane myself while Lilah lounges inside. She's half asleep when I start the engine.

She drifts off to sleep halfway through the flight, leaving me alone with my thoughts and her lilac perfume.

I feel like I'm coming back from another planet. Aiden drives us back into the city. The glass and steel spires loom over an alien landscape. There's no more green, and the sky feels smaller. Caged. I don't know if I like it here anymore. I was getting used to country living.

When we arrive at the apartment, Aiden ushers me inside. His sister-in-law is waiting for us along with the boys.

To my surprise, Tim rushes up and hugs Aiden. Jason is more reserved, but nods to his dad as his younger brother detaches and hugs me, too.

Their aunt is quiet, watching us. She sees it, I realize. There's an invisible connection between me and Aiden. The way we stand, move together, move around each other without a glance makes it obvious, at least to me.

The three of us are alone in the hall. The boys are in the apartment.

Gloria eyes us. "Aiden," she says flatly. "You're old enough to be her father."

"Not quite," he corrects.

"Close enough. Roland’s daughter, too. Have you lost your mind?"

Aiden stares her down, but says nothing.

"My sister is turning in her grave. You're disgusting."

"Hey," I blurt out. “I'm standing right here."

"I can see that," Gloria hisses. "I can't believe you're parading her around in front of my nephews."

"Nobody is parading me around," I snap, folding my arms across my chest. "Aiden talked to the boys already. They understand."

"Do they? They understand that their mother is being replaced?"

"She's not," Aiden says, coldly. "This is rich, coming from you. After what you pulled, you have the temerity to stand there and cast judgments on me?"

Gloria narrows her eyes. "You need me to keep quiet. You're not broadcasting this. It's a secret. I don't know if you're ashamed—probably not, you don't have any shame."

Aiden clears his throat. "I know where this is going. How much?"

"Double," she says, smirking.

"Done. Now get out of my building."

After she steps into the elevator, I turn to Aiden. "What did she pull?"

He shifts on his feet. "Walk with me."

Leading me out into the penthouse courtyard, he sits on a stone in the garden and looks around. "I don't want the boys to hear."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Gloria and my wife, Grace, are…were twins. Identical twins."

A shiver runs down my spine. So this woman looks just like his dead wife? "That must be terribly hard on you."

"At first," he admits. "Time has taken care of that. It's been ten years. Gloria never liked me. She was possessive of her sister—I can vividly remember her yelling at Grace that she was the older one. By two minutes."

I snort.

"She tried to break us up a dozen times. She went too far after my bachelor party. I was drunk, and she wasn't. I thought she was Grace."

"Oh, my God," I blurt out. "You didn't."

"I did. I've regretted it ever since."

"Aiden," I whisper, touching his shoulder. "Her identical twin sister tricked you when you were drunk. That's definitely her fault. I can't believe she'd do that. Did she try to stop the wedding?"

"I expected she would when I realized what happened. She didn't, though. Never said a word, but she was always sort of there. Grace wouldn't let her live with us, so we put her up in a city apartment. I've been supporting her ever since Grace passed. I can't bring myself not to."

"Now she wants to blackmail you. With me."

Aiden rests his chin on his fist and stares into the pool. "Nothing will come of it. You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you. Never trust a blackmailer. Once they've squeezed you for whatever they can they'll use the dirt anyway. Double dip."

Aiden glances at me. "What?"

"My father told me that. He warns me about blackmailers instead of giving me fatherly advice. Or telling me he loves me or going to recitals."

Aiden cracks a smile. That warms me a little. "This does not surprise me in the slightest. You know, we do have a problem here."

"What?"

He sits up. "You'll have to go back to college in the fall. Complete your degree. You'll be expected to go home."

"I know." I sigh. "I don't want to leave."

"Oh, you won't. I'm not letting you go back to your little gilded cage. You are your own person. You make your own choices. I want you to stay with me."

I shudder, suddenly chilled despite the afternoon heat. "I want to stay, too," I tell him.

"Then we just need to figure out the right time, and way, to tell him. After the demonstration and my work with the city is settled, we'll say something to him."

He kisses my cheek. “We only need to hide for a little longer. Don’t worry about Gloria. She won’t risk putting brakes on the gravy train.

He stands up.

"I have to catch up on some things. I think you should move your things into my room."

"Yeah," I say, my throat a little dry.

As I carry my stuff from one room to the next, I dwell on what he said. Not that crazy story about his wife's twin—that's in the past. No, now I can't stop thinking about her and blackmail, and about my father's reaction to all this.

The cabin was like another world. Now that I'm back in reality, I have to face the consequences of my actions. I'm not a fool. I know that Aiden and my father are tied together at the hip in business, but they don't see eye to eye. I've heard enough rants about electric cars to know that. Now I can't stop thinking about what will happen after he finds out about this.

You know what?

He can go to hell. It's my life. I'm an adult. I can make my own choices. If I let him overrule me on this most important of things, what then? Be his servant for the rest of my life? Sometimes I think he'll live forever, and I'll end up some crazy cat lady taking orders from his mummified husk in a power chair.

Enough is enough. I have to live my life.

I repeat that, like a mantra.

Enough is enough.

I couldn't really spare all that time.

Yet, catching up feels like nothing. I am more focused, more energized, more empowered than I have ever felt. Like a shell of myself, going through the motions, I've coasted through my absurdly fortunate life, awash in accolades and news magazine profiles and internet fan clubs, feeling none of it.

I could sing. In my office, I feel like a god again, striding over the clear glass as I gaze down on the world below. All because of Delilah, my Delilah, my heart, my soul, my special angel…and my little devil. If she thinks I took her for a ride before, wait until I'm ready to celebrate my great triumph.

I just need to find a babysitter.

Maria enters, summoned moments ago.

"I need someone to watch my children following the afterparty for the demonstration."

“Aiden,” she says.

I look up from the riot of files on my desk.

“Why don’t I keep them with me? I could bring them home tonight.”

I shake my head. “That’s unnecessary. You have other work. You don’t need them underfoot.”

Maria moves closer to my desk and sits on the corner. I glance at her, confused. She’s acting oddly.

“Aiden,” she repeats my name.

“Is something wrong?”

“Are you nervous about the demonstration?”

I shrug. “I have complete faith in the design. I worry over the details.”

She edges closer and sits back against the desk. Her hair is down and her jacket is open. She reaches up and brushes her hair back, and it pulls at her blouse, baring a peek at her cleavage.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

She slides her thighs apart, hitching up her skirt in the process. I look away, but I’m certain she’s not wearing underwear.

“Maria,” I say, sharply. “Stop this.”

“You don’t need to drive the demo car yourself. Let one of the engineers do it. You’re so tired, you’ve been up for almost three days.”

“You have work to do. Go.”

Her face twists, anger flaring in her eyes. She hops off the desk and dives to her knees, between my legs.

Without thinking, I seize her by the waist and push her aside. She rolls back onto the floor with a grunt and lays there, fuming, teeth bared.

“What’s wrong with you?” I demand.

“I’m here for you. I’ve always been here for you. I’ve given you my life.”

One hand on the desk, she drags herself to my feet.

“What do I get for it? ‘Maria do this, Maria do that, Maria I’ve wrapped up my little sugar baby in a dress that costs more than you car, bring her to me so I can ditch the gala you organized to go fuck her. Oh, and watch my kids while I’m gone.’”

I stare at her, stunned. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Aiden. I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” I blurt. “Maria, this…this is… I don’t even know what this is.”

“This is me baring my soul.”

“Stand up.”

She straightens.

“Fix your clothes.”

Maria tugs her skirt back into position and adjusts her top and hair.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. This isn’t happening.”

“Aiden, listen…”

“I’ve heard enough. We have a professional relationship, Maria, and that is all. Return to your duties.”

“You really need to listen to me.”

“You have two options,” I say through gritted teeth. “Stop now, and you can go back to work. Keep going, and I’ll have you downstairs in HR for an exit interview before you’re escorted out of the building. Am I clear?”

For a single heavy moment, she stands, working her fingers at her sides.

Then she turns and leaves.

I sag back against my desk, my head spinning. What the hell? Where did that come from? Maria has worked for me for years and never once said a word like this. I’m too stunned to think.

There’s too much to do to deal with this now. I should let her go, right now. She’s under an NDA and a noncompete, so there’s no worries there. I’m stunned and a little hurt. I feel betrayed.

I'll have to head out to the demonstration site soon. We've set up a short, closed circuit with a few obstacles to show off the car's radar and pedestrian safety systems. Closed tests on our track have gone smoothly for six months. When we unveil this, it will be the biggest moment of my career.

It all feels like a distraction from the real purpose of my being. Lilah.

The phone rings, and I nearly ignore it, deep in my planning. I don’t have time to answer them all now, so I let this one pass. Until the rings continue.

"Yes?"

"Aiden," Roland says, affably.

"Roland." I sigh. "A moment, let me put you on speaker. Is there a problem? I'm hip deep in preparations for my little surprise."

"Hrmph. Hip deep. Quite an expression."

The hackles rise on the back of my neck. He's getting at something. "What can I help you with?"

"I suppose I should be plain. I know my plain-spokenness grates against your poet's soul, but you'll have to forgive me. I know you're fucking my daughter."

At that precise moment, Lilah walks into the room and freezes.

I look up at her. Roland doesn’t know, he can’t see. He lays it all out, quickly and succinctly, the way he might lay out a “deal” to a defeated opponent who's about to cede his company over to him.

"It stops, now. If not I rally the shareholders. Your little toy debuts on Monday. By the closing bell today news that the head of the company has been caught in an affair with a girl half his age will tank the stock prices and the other shareholders will dump their holdings or come running to me. Then you go back to being my employee. You stuck your dick in my daughter, but you're the one who's fucked…unless you break it off. I give you this one chance to send her running along home."

Nearly a decade of rage condenses into a single world, spat with the intensity of a vile curse. "Never," I snarl.

"Stop!" Lilah cries.

All the air was just sucked out of my lungs. Aiden stands there facing his desk. I rush across, ignoring the transparent floor and the crazy drop beneath my feet.

"Delilah dear, is that you?" my father asks, his voice almost joyful. "No surprise he keeps you nearby. You little slut."

Aiden lets out a sound, half roar and half wail, and almost smashes the speaker with his fist before I stop him.

"All right, you win," I shout. "I heard what you want, and you've got it. I'm coming back today."

Aiden turns to me. "No, you can't."

"I have to," I almost plead.

"I've already sent a car for you. Your flight is in two hours," Roland says. "If you're not on it, I'm going to own Byrne Industries by the end of the day. There will be no demonstration, no urban renewal project, no more flights of fancy and nonsense. I'll put everything to rights and put this company on a course to do what it's meant to do: create value for the shareholders."

"If I come back, you'll keep quiet?" I say. "If I come home, you'll leave Aiden and his company alone?"

"You're worth more to me," my father says in a voice that says otherwise. "I want you home, now, and we’re done, Aiden. I'm dumping my stock as soon as she's on the plane. When I release it all your prices will plummet anyway."

"What do you want?" Aiden demands.

"My daughter returns, as I asked. Now you're trying to negotiate to save your silly dreams? I figure you must have had a good turn fucking my daughter, so now it's my turn to fuck you. How do you like it?"

"We can work this out," Aiden pleads. "She stays. I'll sell you my entire stake in the company—"

"I'll accept that," my father chortles, like bubbling fat in a pan. "You can keep her. I'll take your precious company."

"No!" I shriek. "No, Father, I'm leaving now. Leave him alone."

"Lilah!" Aiden blurts, turning to me.

"That's sweet, girl. Very sweet. You'd better have your narrow ass on the plane, or I'm going to ruin your boyfriend. Make your choice."

He hangs up, leaving the line to hiss.

Aiden grabs my shoulders.

"You're not leaving. I have more money than I'll ever need, Lilah. I don't care about the company, I—"

"No," I say, coldly, shaking loose. "I won't let you do this to yourself. I won't, Aiden. I won't suffer you looking at me the rest of my life knowing you had to choose me over your dreams. Your work is too important. This is bigger than us. I'm going."

"You are my dream," he whispers.

The tears come, sharp and hot, clawing down my cheeks. I break and run so he won't see me, and somehow I manage to hold back the sobs until I'm in the elevator.

“I love you, Lilah.”

It feels like ramming a knife through my chest, but I know it's the right thing. I can't let him destroy himself over me.

I love him.

As I realize I never said those three little words where he could hear, I start to scream.

More than a few people stare at me as I charge through the lobby, scrubbing at my wet eyes.

He knew. He has a car waiting for me outside. I throw myself inside, abandoning my love, my life, and everything but the clothes on my back to return to an invisible prison to live as the tool of a bitter old man who never had an ounce of love in his rotten heart.

The phone in the car rings. I pick it up. "I hate you," I tell him.

"I know," he says.

I jam the end call button and curl up in the seat, weeping tears that burn my skin.