Chapter 6
Kade made pasta. Good pasta — the kind with fresh noodles and a sauce that took three hours.
We sat at his dining table with the city lights spread out behind the glass, and he told me.
"I didn't run into you by accident at that hotel."
I set down my fork.
"I knew Marcus was throwing the party. I knew because I've had a file on Sterling Development for six months. I knew the date. I knew the venue."
"I showed up because I wanted to see you."
His voice was calm. Measured. Like he'd rehearsed this.
"I didn't know what he was going to do. I didn't know about your sister. But I was there that night on purpose."
"I've been — keeping track of you. Since you married him. Not in a way that—" He stopped. Exhaled.
"I need you to hear this without running."
I stared at him.
"The acquisition of Sterling. I'd been working on it for two months before the party. The opportunity was real. But the timing — I moved it up after I saw what he did to you."
"So you planned to be at the hotel that night."
"Yes."
"And you already had a plan to take over his company."
"In progress. Yes."
"And the night you kissed me — the night we —"
"That was not planned. That was six years of self-control failing catastrophically."
I pushed back from the table.
"Kade. This is insane."
"I know."
"You've been — what — watching me from a distance for six years? While I was married?"
"I checked in. Occasionally. Through mutual friends. Through public records."
He looked at me squarely. No apology in his expression.
"I told myself I'd stay away as long as you were happy. And then two months ago I found out about Sterling's financial problems, pulled the records, and saw — you weren't happy. You hadn't been happy for a long time."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Your gallery showings dropped from four a year to zero. You stopped painting. Your social media went dark eighteen months ago. Everyone I talked to said you'd become a ghost."
I felt exposed. Peeled open.
Because he was right. I had stopped painting. I had disappeared into Marcus's life until there was nothing left of mine.
"I'm not going to apologize for wanting you," Kade said. "But I'll understand if this is too much."
I stood up and walked to the window. The rain had finally stopped. The city glittered below.
"I need you to answer me honestly."
"Anything."
"Did you set Marcus up? Did you know he'd humiliate me at that party? Did you push any of this to happen?"
"No." Immediate. Firm. "I showed up expecting a party. I was going to introduce myself as a potential investor. Make contact. Play the long game."
"Marcus destroying himself in public was his own doing. All I did was be there to catch you after."
I turned back to him.
"And if I'd been happy? If my marriage had been fine?"
Something painful moved through his face.
"Then I would have bought the company anyway and left you alone. Made my money. Tried to move on."
He stood and came to me, stopping three feet away.
"Elena. I know how this sounds. I know what this looks like from the outside. But I have never once interfered in your life before that night. I waited. I gave you the space to live the life you chose."
"And when that life fell apart, I was there. That's all."
I looked at him for a long time.
This was obsessive. This was excessive. This was not normal behavior.
And yet — standing here in his apartment, with his honesty laid bare and his hands at his sides, giving me the choice — I didn't feel trapped.
I felt seen.
"I need time to process this."
"Take all the time you need."
"I'm going to keep staying in the guest room."
"Of course."
"And I need you to stop buying pieces of my ex-husband's company for five minutes so I can think."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"I'll... pause operations. Temporarily."
I went to bed. I didn't sleep, but it wasn't fear keeping me up.
It was the realization that someone had been paying attention to me — really paying attention — for years. While Marcus hadn't noticed I'd stopped painting. Hadn't noticed I'd stopped smiling. Hadn't noticed me at all.
We sat at his dining table with the city lights spread out behind the glass, and he told me.
"I didn't run into you by accident at that hotel."
I set down my fork.
"I knew Marcus was throwing the party. I knew because I've had a file on Sterling Development for six months. I knew the date. I knew the venue."
"I showed up because I wanted to see you."
His voice was calm. Measured. Like he'd rehearsed this.
"I didn't know what he was going to do. I didn't know about your sister. But I was there that night on purpose."
"I've been — keeping track of you. Since you married him. Not in a way that—" He stopped. Exhaled.
"I need you to hear this without running."
I stared at him.
"The acquisition of Sterling. I'd been working on it for two months before the party. The opportunity was real. But the timing — I moved it up after I saw what he did to you."
"So you planned to be at the hotel that night."
"Yes."
"And you already had a plan to take over his company."
"In progress. Yes."
"And the night you kissed me — the night we —"
"That was not planned. That was six years of self-control failing catastrophically."
I pushed back from the table.
"Kade. This is insane."
"I know."
"You've been — what — watching me from a distance for six years? While I was married?"
"I checked in. Occasionally. Through mutual friends. Through public records."
He looked at me squarely. No apology in his expression.
"I told myself I'd stay away as long as you were happy. And then two months ago I found out about Sterling's financial problems, pulled the records, and saw — you weren't happy. You hadn't been happy for a long time."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Your gallery showings dropped from four a year to zero. You stopped painting. Your social media went dark eighteen months ago. Everyone I talked to said you'd become a ghost."
I felt exposed. Peeled open.
Because he was right. I had stopped painting. I had disappeared into Marcus's life until there was nothing left of mine.
"I'm not going to apologize for wanting you," Kade said. "But I'll understand if this is too much."
I stood up and walked to the window. The rain had finally stopped. The city glittered below.
"I need you to answer me honestly."
"Anything."
"Did you set Marcus up? Did you know he'd humiliate me at that party? Did you push any of this to happen?"
"No." Immediate. Firm. "I showed up expecting a party. I was going to introduce myself as a potential investor. Make contact. Play the long game."
"Marcus destroying himself in public was his own doing. All I did was be there to catch you after."
I turned back to him.
"And if I'd been happy? If my marriage had been fine?"
Something painful moved through his face.
"Then I would have bought the company anyway and left you alone. Made my money. Tried to move on."
He stood and came to me, stopping three feet away.
"Elena. I know how this sounds. I know what this looks like from the outside. But I have never once interfered in your life before that night. I waited. I gave you the space to live the life you chose."
"And when that life fell apart, I was there. That's all."
I looked at him for a long time.
This was obsessive. This was excessive. This was not normal behavior.
And yet — standing here in his apartment, with his honesty laid bare and his hands at his sides, giving me the choice — I didn't feel trapped.
I felt seen.
"I need time to process this."
"Take all the time you need."
"I'm going to keep staying in the guest room."
"Of course."
"And I need you to stop buying pieces of my ex-husband's company for five minutes so I can think."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"I'll... pause operations. Temporarily."
I went to bed. I didn't sleep, but it wasn't fear keeping me up.
It was the realization that someone had been paying attention to me — really paying attention — for years. While Marcus hadn't noticed I'd stopped painting. Hadn't noticed I'd stopped smiling. Hadn't noticed me at all.