my knuckles on the door and the guard opens it a second later. As I walk back down the prison hallways, my mind whirls, and I realize I was wrong.
Margot didn’t have a master plan. She wasn’t trying to use me. Beckett was using her.
He left her, pregnant and alone, confused as to how she ended up overdosing while he moved on to other ways to hurt Luca.
And me?
I’m no better. I broke down her defenses one by one and convinced her to trust me. I wormed my way into her heart and then I left her behind.
I’m just the same as Beckett, if not worse.
When I get back to Argyle Palace, I feel empty. Alone.
I feel like an ass.
Throwing a few things into a bag, I ask for the jet to be prepared. Then, I find Theo and Cara and say a quick goodbye. Theo nods to me, his face somber. I don’t have to tell him why I’m leaving—he understands. Ever since he started dating Cara, he’s understood matters of the heart better than any of the rest of us.
None of us—not Theo, Luca, Beckett, or me—ever do things the easy way, apparently.
So, I sling my bag over my shoulder and stride to the waiting royal vehicle.
I’m going to Farcliff.
The plane takes off, and my heart starts pumping harder. My knee bounces up and down, and I chew on my nails as we make the three-hour flight up to Farcliff. I wave the flight attendants away and stare out the window at the setting sun, taking deep, cleansing breaths.
When we land, it’s far colder than I ever expected. It’s the week before Christmas, and the air in Farcliff is full of holiday fervor.
I jump in a car and give Margot’s address, tugging at my collar as I start to sweat.
Suddenly, it seems too impulsive to be here. I should have called Margot. I should have tried to text her or warn her in some way that I was coming.
But what could I say? I need to see her face when I tell her that I was wrong. I need to hold her in my arms and smell her skin before dropping to my knees and asking for her forgiveness.
I don’t know how I’ll prove to her that I’m worthy of her love, but I’ll find a way.
Hope blooms in my heart as my love for Margot flares. All the emotion that I’ve kept at bay comes back with a vengeance, and all I can think about is how much I care about her.
I was a fool to push her away. An idiot to doubt her. An ass to let her leave.
That changes right now.
The car pulls through the gates, and a few stray photographers snap pictures of my car. I wince, and then brace myself against the cameras. They can’t see me through the tinted windows.
In any case, this is what I need to get used to. If I’m going to prove myself to Margot, I need to show her that I can handle the public scrutiny and her life as a celebrity. I can live my life in the open and I can change my ways, because I love her.
I love her more than anything in the world, and I need her in my life.
Those words play on repeat in my mind as the driver opens my door for me. I nod to him, my eyes trained on the front door.
My hands tremble as I raise a fist to knock. With a deep breath, I rap on the door, and I wait.
32
Margot
Ivy is still crying in my arms when a knock comes on the door. We both stiffen, my sister wiping the tears from her eyes and glancing over her shoulder.
“Who is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I answer.
“Tell them to go away.”
I laugh. “I will.”
Giving her shoulders one last squeeze, I extricate myself from my sister’s hold. Brushing my hands over my thighs, I try to straighten up my crumpled clothing as I walk to the front door.
Maybe Luca ordered pizza, or some reporter got through security somehow. Maybe Felicity came by with some last-minute plans for my upcoming week of public appearances.
I run through every single possibility, except one.
Shock registers on my face as I swing the door open. Dante stands on the porch, arms hanging at his sides, face betraying no tension. He inhales sharply when he sees me, but otherwise says nothing.
He looks gorgeous.
Rugged, haunted, and exactly like the man who has been plaguing my