Chapter 435

The night air was crisp against Sophia Montgomery’s skin as she stood on the penthouse balcony, her fingers gripping the railing. Six years had passed since she last saw Ethan Blackwood, yet here she was, trapped in his world again.

He moved like a shadow behind her, his presence overwhelming. A man forged in the fires of war, hardened by years in special forces—yet the way he looked at her made her feel like the only thing that could break him.

"Still so quiet," he murmured, his voice rough. "Still pretending you don’t feel anything."

She didn’t answer.

Ethan scoffed, then in one swift motion, he hauled her against him. His fingers found the sensitive spot at her waist, and—

"Ah!" She gasped, biting back laughter.

His warning from earlier echoed in her mind—Don’t make a sound. Don’t wake the neighbors. So she stifled her giggles, pressing her face into his chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like a lifeline.

He held her tighter.

Something was different tonight.

The way he touched her. The way he looked at her.

Was this… a date?

The thought was absurd.

She lifted her gaze, searching his face. "Why?"

His brow arched. "Why what?"

Her lips trembled. "This. Us. You haven’t even asked about Liam."

Ethan’s expression darkened. "Do you want to explain?"

Sophia laughed bitterly. "Would it matter? You never believe me. Just like six years ago, when you saw me push Isabella at the hospital. You condemned me without a second thought."

She wasn’t just speaking to him. She was speaking to the ghosts of their past.

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

The truth was, he had been wrong. Six years ago, he’d let his pride blind him. He’d lost her because of it.

But now?

Now he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

"Your explanations are useless," he said finally, his voice softer than she expected. "So don’t bother."

She flinched.

Then, without warning, he scooped her up, carrying her back inside. He didn’t take her to her room.

He took her to his.

That night, he held her. Just held her. No demands. No cruelty.

And for the first time in years, Sophia slept without nightmares.

Morning came too soon.

The shrill ring of Ethan’s phone shattered the silence. Sophia stirred, still curled against him, his arm draped possessively over her waist.

He answered without moving her.

"Yes. I’ll take her for fittings."

A pause.

"Ruby? Keep it. Her fingers are small—I’ll have them measured."

Sophia’s breath hitched.

Her.

Who was her?

A foolish hope flickered—was he talking about her?

She crushed it instantly.

Ethan hung up, his gaze dropping to her. She feigned sleep, but he saw right through her.

"Never met a woman as stubborn as you," he muttered, yanking her upright.

She blinked up at him, disoriented.

He was already dressing, his shirt clinging to his broad frame. "What? Waiting for me to dress you too? Or are you skipping Lily’s kindergarten drop-off?"

Sophia jolted. Lily.

She scrambled off the bed—only to freeze when she realized—

She was naked.

Ethan’s smirk was lethal. "Going somewhere, thief?"

Her face burned.

Because this was the man she’d feared for years.

The man who could destroy her with a word.

And yet…

Last night, he’d held her like she was something precious.

What game was he playing now?