Killian's POV
Victor stared at me for a long beat after my last words-his face a storm of shock, frustration, and something that looked almost like reluctant understanding.
The pool water kept lapping gently against the tiles, the only sound besides our breathing.
His arms were still crossed, but the rigid line of his shoulders had loosened just a fraction, like the fight had drained out of him a little.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to steady himself.
"Alright," he said finally, voice quieter but still edged with steel. "I've heard you. Every word. The hotel story, the coincidence, how she 'healed' you, how you can't live without her, how she's your spark and your light and your everything. I get it. I see it. You're in deep. Deeper than
