Chapter 17: Chapter XVII

The door clicked shut with a soft thud behind Callum. The penthouse was more quiet than usual when Callum walked in.

Ariana heard it from the living room, curled up on the cream-coloured sofa, barefoot and in one of his oversized sweaters, the sleeves drowning her hands. The novel in her lap had long lost her attention. She’d been listening—waiting—for that sound, for him.

He was late. Later than usual. Dinner was long over. She couldn’t get herself to eat without him.

She looked up, hopeful. “Hey,” she said softly. “You’re late.”

Callum barely looked her way as he tossed his keys onto the marble center table. “Didn’t expect you to still be up.”

There was something different in his voice. It was distant.

She sat up straighter. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Callum spoke sternly. “Don’t wait up for me next time Ariana.”

Her smile fell. “I wasn’t— I just wanted to see how your meeting went and ensure you got back safe. You left in such a rush.”

“It’s not really any of your business.” His tone was sharp. Cold.

Ariana stood slowly, the tension tightening in her chest. “Okay… what’s wrong, did something happen?”

“I said it’s not your concern,” he repeated, voice sharper now. He walked past her toward the kitchen, avoiding her gaze.

He pulled open the liquor cabinet and poured himself a generous drink. Something stronger than wine. Bourbon.

She followed him, standing a few feet behind. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything.”

The words hit her like a slap.

“Yes, you are.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You’re shutting me out, and I don’t get why. Is this about what happened at the gala?”

“This isn’t about the damn gala,” he snapped, turning suddenly.

She flinched.

Silence thickened between them.

Callum exhaled, hands tightening around the glass. “I just need some space, alright?”

Her chest tightened. “That’s not fair.”

The venom in his tone was unlike him—at least, the version of him she’d come to know.

Her voice cracked softly, “I’m not asking for an explanation. I’m asking for honesty.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Ariana”

“I think there’s something bothering you and I think it’s stressing you out.” Her eyes searched his face, heart aching for the way his jaw tensed, his shoulders tightened, like he was fighting himself more than her.

A beat passed.

Ariana’s eyes watered. “I think I should leave.”

His eyes turned to hers.

“No,” he said, far too quickly. Then again, softer, “No. That’s not… what I meant.”

“You’re pushing me away,” she said, voice low. “And I’ve been trying—trying to understand this situation, to be what you need me to be.”

“I don’t need anything from you” he cut in.

That hurt more than she expected.

She nodded once, retreating a step.

Callum cursed under his breath and set the glass down hard. “Ariana—”

“Forget it,” she said, brushing past him. “You’ve made it clear. I won’t bother you anymore.”

He reached out, catching her wrist as she passed. “Wait.”

She didn’t look at him.

“I had a meeting. With someone. Someone who’s good at reminding me of things I would rather forget.”

Ariana turned slowly. His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“I thought I could handle it without things getting messy.” he said, eyes searching hers. “But for the first time in a long time I don’t think I’m in control of this situation and I don’t want you in the middle of things.”

“You don’t have to protect me, Callum,” she whispered. “Just… be straight up with me about things.”

His jaw clenched. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment.

Callum’s gaze dropped to her lips. Eyes searching hers as if for permission.

And then—he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It was aching and raw, a desperate collision of mouths as if the tension between them had finally cracked open. Her hands flew to his chest. His fingers slid into her hair. The kiss deepened, stealing her breath, his lips moving like he needed her to quiet the storm inside him.

She kissed him back—hungrily, helplessly.

It was the kind of kiss that broke barriers. The kind that felt like a promise wrapped in longing.

When his hands slipped to her waist and pulled her flush against him, she felt every sharp, hungry edge of him—and it lit something inside her.

He lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, their mouths never parting, the air between them turning molten. She kissed him like she’d been waiting for this moment, needing it as much as breath.

But just as his fingers trailed under the hem of her sweater, she paused.

“Callum…” she whispered, resting her forehead to his.

He stilled immediately, breathing hard.

“Wait.”

Breathless. Shaken. Callum stopped, his forehead resting against hers. Their chests rose and fell in unison.

“I—” she whispered, searching for the right words. “I can’t. Not like this.”

He nodded slowly, still holding her. “I understand.”

Another beat passed, heavy with everything unspoken.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” he said, barely audible. “I need you to know that.”

Her fingers brushed against his shirt. “I know.”

He exhaled, and for the first time in hours, the coldness melted from his eyes. They stayed there a moment longer, tangled in quiet, fragile affection.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead—gentler, reverent.

He helped her down, and for a second, they just stood there, forehead to forehead, breathing each other in. She felt his arms tighten around her.

But in the shadows of his mind, the echo of Milanna’s threats still clung to him like smoke.

And he knew the peace they’d just found… might not last.

Neither of them knew just how close the storm truly was.