Page 28 of A Sinful Gravity

"Security!"

As she was dragged to the door, she whipped around, eyes crazed and venomous with desperation. "You think getting rid of me will bring her back? Cassian, she's not coming back! You know why? Because she stopped loving you long ago! From the first time you trampled on her heart, she stopped loving you!"

"GET OUT!!!"

The coffee cup smashed at her feet, shards flying. The door finally closed. The world went quiet.

I collapsed into my chair. Outside the window was Washington's bright sunlight. Everything running as usual. Only inside me was a hole, cold wind howling through it.

I made one last call to the detective. "Find her. I don't care how much it costs, how many people you need. Find her."

Then I covered my face. In this familiar office that belonged to me, I felt bone-deep loneliness for the first time.

Two months later.

I'd found nothing.

She'd vanished. All social media accounts deleted. Chloe disappeared too. The detective said someone had deliberately erased all traces of her, clean and thorough.

I started drinking. Whiskey, vodka, anything. I thought she was just a "suitable" wife, a woman I "should" love. But after she left, I discovered this house was too big, too quiet. Her scent faded bit by bit, and my heart was hollowed out bit by bit.

Only when drunk could I dream of her. Dream of her apologizing with her head down, dream of her crying curled in my arms, dream of her pressed against the window, breathing hard... Every time I woke up, I wanted to stab myself.

I'd lost her. Because of my damned arrogance, my vicious mouth, and most of all because I'd never truly believed that she loved me as a person, not for anything else.

Chloe brokein late one night. I was lying on the floor, bottles everywhere. She didn't hit me. Just crouched down and looked at me.

"If you want to be garbage, be garbage," her voice was cold. "But if you actually care about her at all, stand up. Even if she comes back someday and sees you like this, she'll turn around and leave without hesitation."

I said nothing. She snatched my bottle. "You know what your biggest problem is?"

I didn't answer.

"You treat feelings like venture capital." She looked at me. "The moment you realize you're starting to depend on someone, you retreat. Because in your asshole logic, dependence equals weakness, weakness equals vulnerability, equals destruction. So you never admitted you loved her, even when you were already head over heels."

"I just—"

"You just don't know how to love someone." She stood up, setting down the bottle. "But that's not a fucking excuse. Cassian, you need to learn how to love. If she comes back, you need to win her back like a normal person, not command her like an asshole."

She left. I stared at the ceiling for a long time.

I loved her. These two months, in this empty tomb, I'd finally admitted it.

I started sobering up. Buried myself in work. Meetings, business trips, contracts. Stay busy, no time to think about her.

But every night, I'd still sit by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city's neon lights. Wondering where she was. If she was crying. If she hated me. If she had... someone else.

I didn't know.

I only knew that for the rest of my life, I might never find her again.

Chapter Seven

Luna

The applause crashed over the stage like a wave.

I stood in the golden spotlight, breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my spine, my toes throbbing in their satin pointe shoes—that familiar sting after each perfect landing. I bowed low, and when I lifted my head, the lights blazed so bright I could barely see. But I loved this feeling. Up here, the light belonged to you. The applause belonged to you. Every breath belonged to you alone.