ELLA
I knew he was back the moment the house shifted.
It always did when Ace came home—like the walls straightened, like the staff inhaled all at once and forgot how to exhale. The quiet became deliberate. Purposeful. Everyone moved faster, sharper, afraid of being in his way.
I smiled.
Perfect timing.
I left the sitting room immediately, smoothing my dress as I walked, slowing my steps just enough to make them intentional. I’d chosen this dress for a reason—silk, dark, cut just low enough to remind him of things he’d forgotten. Or pretended to.
It had been a very long time since Ace Grant had looked at me.
Longer since he’d touched me.
Once. That was all. One night. Alcohol-heavy and blurred at the edges. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember how detached he’d been even then
