Chapter 37 Kiss
Tristan stood in the doorway. He was vibrating with tension. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He was glaring at Miller like he wanted to rip the scaffold down with his bare hands.
I ignored him. I walked over to the foreman, Silas.
"The load-bearing wall," I said, pointing to the blueprints on the table. "We need to reinforce it before we take out the solarium glass."
"Agreed," Silas said, keeping his eyes strictly on my face. "We have the steel beams ready."
"Good. Let’s do it."
I climbed a ladder to check the upper molding. The dress rode up slightly.
I heard a sound from the doorway. A low, angry growl.
Tristan marched into the room.
"Get down," he ordered.
I looked down at him. "I’m working, Tristan."
"Get down!" he shouted.
The crew stopped again. This time, the silence was heavy. Uncomfortable.
"Tristan," I said calmly. "You are disrupting the site."
"You are disrupting my sanity!" he yelled back. "Look at them! They’re all staring at you!"
"They’re looking at the architect," I said. "You’re the only one looking at me like a piece of meat."
He grabbed the ladder. He shook it.
"Get. Down."
It was dangerous. It was reckless.
I climbed down. I jumped the last few rungs, landing in front of him.
"Are you insane?" I hissed. "You could have hurt me."
"I’m trying to protect you!"
"From what? From gazes? From thoughts?" I poked him in the chest. "You can't protect me from the world, Tristan. And you certainly can't protect me by humiliating me in front of my employees."
"I am the owner of this house!" he roared. "And I say the site is closed!"
"What?"
"Closed!" He turned to the crew. "Pack it up! Everyone out! Now!"
Silas looked at me. "Ms. Hayes?"
"Stay where you are," I ordered.
"Get out!" Tristan screamed. He grabbed a crowbar from a workbench and slammed it onto the table. The blueprints jumped. "Get out or I fire every single one of you!"
The crew looked at the crazy billionaire with the crowbar. They looked at me.
They started packing.
"Tristan, stop!" I grabbed his arm. "You are being irrational!"
"I am being protective!"
"You are being a tyrant!"
He spun on me. He dropped the crowbar. He grabbed my face in his hands.
"You are mine," he whispered fiercely. "Mine. Not theirs. Mine."
He kissed me.
Right there. In front of the crew. In front of Silas.
It was a claiming kiss. Hard. Dominating. Public.
I froze.
Then, I bit him.
Hard. On the lip.
He jerked back, tasting blood.
"I am not a property," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "I am not a building you can board up. I am a person."
I wiped my mouth.
"And right now? I quit."
I turned and walked out.
I stormed back to the main house. I went upstairs. I went to the Master Suite.
I grabbed my bag. I started throwing clothes into it.
"Mina!"
Tristan was behind me. He was panting. His lip was bleeding.
"Don't," he said.
"Don't what? Leave?" I didn't look at him. "You just fired my crew. You just humiliated me. You just proved that you haven't changed at all. You’re still the same controlling, possessive man who let his sister run his life."
"That’s not fair," he said.
"Fair?" I spun around. "You want fair? Fair would be me walking away five years ago and never looking back. Fair would be you rotting in this house alone."
I zipped the bag.
"I tried," I said. "I really tried. I thought... maybe. After the fire. After the confession. I thought we had a chance."
"We do," he pleaded, stepping toward me.
"No," I said. "We don't. Because you don't want a partner, Tristan. You want a doll. A doll you can put on a shelf and keep safe. A doll that doesn't wear short dresses or talk to other men."
I picked up the bag.
"Well, I’m not a doll," I said. "I’m real. And I’m leaving."
"Please," he whispered. He looked broken. "Please don't go. I panicked. Seeing you... seeing them look at you... it made me crazy."
"That’s the problem," I said. "Your love is crazy. It’s heavy. It suffocates."
I walked past him.
He didn't stop me. He knew he had gone too far.
I walked down the stairs. I walked out the front door.
I got into my car.
I drove away.
I didn't look back.
But as I drove down the winding road, past the gatehouse, past the woods where I had fought Ida...
I felt a tear slide down my cheek.
Not because I was leaving.
But because I knew, with a sinking certainty, that I would be back.
Because the house wasn't finished.
And neither were we.