At a stoplight, I glanced in the rearview mirror and froze.
There was a black Mercedes. The same one I’d caught glimpses of at the last two turns. I leaned forward, giving the car a good look, and that’s when I saw him. Dimitri’s face. Hard. Determined. Relentless.
Shit.
He doesn’t give up, does he?
My hands clenched the steering wheel as I stared at the predetermined destination on the car display. It was the penthouse Adele and I were staying in. I couldn’t let him follow me there. I couldn’t let him see Adele.
So, at a crossroad, I swerved in the opposite direction, driving to Oceania—a popular five-star restaurant in Virginia. Ten minutes later, I pulled over and walked inside.
“Good evening, ma’am,” a waiter greeted at the entrance. “Welcome to Oceania. Would you like a table?”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see the black Mercedes pull up to the restaurant driveway. My pulse quickened at the sight of Dimitri climbing out of the car.
“Table for two.”
He led me to a quiet corner table. “Can I start you with somethingto drink?”
“Your strongest wine. Two glasses.”
If I was going to survive this conversation—this farewell to our tattered, shame-tangled past—I needed something strong to bury those hurtful memories.
The host disappeared just as Dimitri walked in.
His eyes found me immediately. He crossed the restaurant in long strides, ignoring the stares, and sat down across from me.
The proximity was torture. His scent wrapped around me, his presence overwhelming. Under the table, my hands clenched into fists. As for my face? I tried to keep it neutral. But I hoped to God I wasn’t giving more away than I already had at the event. Dimitri Ravencrest was a thing of the past. Signed and sealed away. That was what I needed him to see. That was what I needed myself to believe.
He paused, leaning forward slightly. “How have you been? Where have you been all these years?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. I’m doing well. That’s all that matters.”
“Isabella—”
“Estelle,” I corrected. “It’s Estelle now.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “I just…there wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t think about you. I wondered if you were okay, if you were—”
He reached for my arm, but I pulled away before his fingers could make contact.
The waiter arrived with the wine, and I took a long sip, letting the alcohol burn away the unwanted emotions rising in my chest.
“I wish I could say the same, Dimitri.” I met his eyes steadily. “But I am happy and fine. You don’t have to think or worry about me.”
“You can’t tell me to do that.” His voice was strained, almost desperate.
“You have to, Dimitri.” I kept my tone firm, controlled. “Seeing each other could be a way to fall into our old mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” The word came out sharp, wounded.
“Yes. What happened between us five years ago was a mistake. You are my stepbrother.”
“Not by blood.”
“It doesn’t matter. You are my stepbrother. It should never have happened.” I took another sip of wine, using the moment to steady myself. “But since I can’t change the past, I can control what happens from now on. So, I’ll appreciate it if you don’t bother me anymore.“
He fell silent, something like pain flickering across his face.