I could see myself in her that very moment. I could see the conflict, the pain of loving someone you shouldn’t love. I thought I was the only one. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She gave a slight shrug. “I didn’t either. I guess…I’ve always known. Just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

I dropped my gaze to our joined hands. “He’ll come around.”

“I don’t know…”

“He will—because he obviously feels the same way.” I lifted my chin and looked at her once more, wanting her to feel hopeful rather than drowning in despair. Because I really believed both of these men were more than what they seemed. “I will convince Fender to release you. Not right now. Not tomorrow. But eventually…I will.”

“You shouldn’t have gone back to him, Melanie.” She sniffled and pulled her tears back into her sinuses. “You shouldn’t have done that for me. I never would have wanted you to do that.”

“It’s not so bad…” Images flooded my mind. The way he placed his hand on my neck when he kissed me. The way his dark eyes burned into my face with love, not hostility. The way he took care of me like I was a burden he wanted.

“Does he treat you well?”

Gowns. Diamonds. Gourmet meals. Parties. Lovemaking. A man who loved me with all his heart. It was the first time I’d felt at home since Mom died. “Yes…he does.”

Raven breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

She shook her head. “He’ll never let me go, not after what I did. Not that I have any regrets about it.”

“I know he will.” I believed that man had a soul. I believed it was beautiful like his heart. And I believed that his love for me was real, not just infatuation, not just obsession. But there was something in the way. “He’ll do it…for me.”

When I returned to Fender’s cabin, dinner was laid out on the dining table.

Magnus shut the door the second I was inside and departed.

Fender sat forward with his elbows on the table, his glass full of scotch, the bottle beside him. He lifted his gaze and stared at me in silence.

He probably saw my red eyes, my puffy cheeks, my ruined makeup. I moved to the seat across from him like we were home in his bedroom, having dinner together as our nighttime ritual.

I placed the linen napkin over my lap and grabbed the silverware to eat.

He was still, his fingers interlocked as they rested against his mouth. It wasn’t an intense stare that shone with his obsession. He was clearly angry.

Like a deer in the headlights, I went absolutely still, too petrified to move.

“I’m waiting.”

I swallowed, confused by the statement.