Chapter 62 Sixty Two
Chapter 62 Sixty Two
Zander
The city lights blurred past the car window as I drove aimlessly through Chicago, but my mind was stuck on one single image that refused to leave me alone.
Iris.
Isolde...the girl I had once destroyed on my father’s orders.
The girl I had called disgusting in front of the entire pack while they clapped and cheered.
The girl who had come back weeks later with a new name, a new scent, and somehow managed to make me lose every ounce of control I had ever possessed.
It had been a week since that last confrontation in her room. A week since I had stormed out after she admitted it was both hate and need, revenge and something terrifyingly real. A week of silence. A week of me avoiding everyone, including my own reflection and now my father wanted me to marry Celeste in two weeks.
The thought made me grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
I could still feel her, still taste her. Still hear the way she had moaned my name when I was buried deep inside her that last morning in my penthouse. The way her body had clenched around me like she never wanted to let go. The way she had looked at me with tears in her eyes and said she didn’t know how to stop wanting me.
And I had walked away.
Because my father had shown me the truth.
Because I was terrified that everything between us had been a lie.
The truth was that I didn’t know how to look at her without seeing the girl on her knees in that cold hall the girl I had broken.
My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, it was another message from my father.
We have wedding planning meeting tomorrow with the pack's committee. Bring Celeste and no excuses.
I ignored it.
Instead, I turned the car toward the only place I seemed to end up these days the rooftop bar overlooking the river where I could sit in the dark and drink until the memories stopped screaming.
But even there, she followed me.
I ordered a double whiskey and stared out at the water, the city lights reflecting like broken stars.
She came back for revenge.
That was what my father had said. That every touch, every kiss, every time she had let me inside her had been calculated. A long game to make me fall so she could watch me burn.
But the way she looked at me when she said “fuck me”… that wasn’t revenge, that was desperation, that was need.
Or maybe she’s just that good at pretending.
I took a long swallow of whiskey, the burn doing nothing to quiet the war in my head.
She let me choke her. She begged me to go harder, she came so hard she cried. That wasn’t fake.
But she admitted she came back to make me pay for that night.
She admitted it was both.
I slammed the glass down on the table.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
The bartender glanced at me but said nothing.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way her body had felt wrapped around mine, the way she had whispered my name like it was a prayer and a curse at the same time and the way she had stood there in that room with tears in her eyes and told me she didn’t know how to stop wanting me.
Now my father wanted me to marry Celeste in three weeks, to seal the fucking alliance and fix the rift I had caused by letting Iris into my bed.
To pretend none of this had ever happened.
I laughed bitterly into my glass.
As if I could ever pretend.
As if I could ever forget the way she had felt when she came apart around me.
As if I could ever look at Celeste again without seeing Isolde’s face.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Celeste.
Father says the wedding is in two weeks. We need to talk about the announcement. Call me.
I didn’t call her.
I finished the whiskey and ordered another.
The truth was tearing me apart.
Part of me wanted to drive straight to her apartment right now. To bang on her door and demand she tell me everything. To ask her if any of it had been real. To pull her into my arms and fuck her until the pain went away.
The other part the part that remembered that cold marble floor and her small figure on her knees wanted to stay far away. To protect myself and to protect my family. To do what my father had raised me to do.
I was caught in the middle, and it was ripping me in half.
I finished the second drink and stood up, leaving cash on the table.
I didn’t know where I was going.
I just knew I couldn’t keep sitting here pretending I wasn’t losing my mind over the woman I had once destroyed.
Somewhere deep down, a terrifying thought kept whispering:
What if she really had come back for revenge…
…and I had already given her everything she needed to win?
I stepped out into the night air, the city lights blurring around me.
The wedding was in three weeks.
My father was waiting for my answer and Iris was out there somewhere, carrying the weight of everything we had done to each other.
I didn’t know which one of us was going to break first.
But I knew one thing with terrifying certainty
I couldn’t stay away from her much longer and when I saw her again…
I had no idea whether I was going to kiss her…
…or destroy her for good.