Cole stepped outside, feeling the chill of the night air against his skin, though the cold couldn't compare to the storm brewing inside him.
The encounter with Eve had left him shaken to his core, one of the most heart-wrenching moments of his life.
He hadn't wanted to leave her like that, but deep down, he knew she needed space—time to process whatever was happening between them.
Yet, Cole couldn't comprehend the sudden shift in her. What had changed so drastically?
It was cruel irony. The very act of Eve wanting to sever their connection had made him realize how much he didn't want that.
But now? Now, he wasn't sure of anything. The sudden hang-up in her voice, the finality of it, had caught him off guard in a way nothing ever had. It was only when the prospect of losing her became real that he realized—he didn't want her to go.
Was it love? Or was it just that he'd grown used to her presence, a fixture in his life that he couldn't imagine losing?
He had no answers.
All Cole knew was that, right now, he was more confused than ever.
As he stood there, lost in thought, the sound of approaching voices snapped him back to reality.
"Aren't you, Cole Fay? The heir to the Fay fortune?"
Cole turned, spotting Victor and Sinclair Rosette walking toward him. The tension was immediate, intense.
Victor's expression was guarded—he knew exactly who Cole was and what he represented. And more than that, he knew how Cole had treated Eve in the past. Cold. Cruel. Indifferent.
Victor's jaw clenched. "What are you doing here?" His tone was sharp, accusatory. "Eve is resting, and the doctor said she shouldn't be under any stress."
For a moment, Cole's cold facade cracked.
Cruel
? Was he really being cruel?
The accusation stung in a way he hadn't expected. He thought he had been clear from the beginning—he didn't love Eve. He had never given her false hope.
But now, as the weight of Victor's words settled on him, he realized something far more disturbing: he
was
leading her on. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but when Eve had finally decided to sever ties with him, he found himself not wanting it.
In the end, maybe Victor was right. He
was
cruel. He didn't love her, but he also wasn't ready to let her go. He had never cared for her the way she deserved, but the idea of her walking away, of her being out of his life, unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Before Cole could respond, Sinclair stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Enough, Victor," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Give us a moment, will you? Why don't you go inside and let Eve know I'm here? It's better she isn't surprised when she sees me."
Victor hesitated, his eyes flickering between Sinclair and Cole, his expression full of warning. With one final glare at Cole, he turned and headed inside, slamming the door behind him.
Now alone with Sinclair, Cole felt the air grow heavier between them. Sinclair's gaze was piercing, like he could see right through him.
"So, what are you doing here, Cole Fay?" the older man asked quietly, his tone more curious than accusatory. "I thought you didn't care about Eve."
Cole's jaw clenched, the tension building in his chest. "I just want to know if she's okay."