A week ago…
Zane had told himself he’d go home at the end of the month. Maybe check on his mom, see if the family has finally settled, and remind them that he hasn’t abandoned them. But that plan had gone up in smoke the second Isabella showed up.
She’d been relentless for days, texts, missed calls, even a damn voicemail (and she never left voicemails). He ignored all of it until she showed up in person.
Now she was standing in his garage, arms crossed, eyes gleaming that sharp amber that only ever meant trouble, and making him question between her and his family.
“Zane,” she said, voice tight. “Don’t you think it’s time you came back home?”
He didn’t look up from the engine he was tuning, the rhythmic click of metal under his hands steadier than his heartbeat. “Isabella, I told you
