Outside His Shadow

Chapter 23: The Offer

The door to Sloane’s room was wide open. I stopped in the hallway, half-expecting the air to still carry the sharp, heavy scent of her perfume or the sound of her heels clicking against the floor. Instead, there was only the smell of lemon polish. The room had been stripped. No silk robes on the bed, no cluttered vanity—just bare walls and the kind of silence that only comes when a threat has been neutralized.

She was actually gone.

I walked toward our suite, my heart doing a slow, heavy thud against my ribs. I pushed the door open, but I didn't find Michael buried in his phone or hovering over a laptop. The room was dim, lit only by a few candles that cast long, flickering shadows against the ceiling. He’d set a small table by the balcony doors, away from the cold formality of the villa's dining hall.

Michael was standing by the glass, a bottle of wine already open. He looked clean, sharp, but his shoulders were tight. When he saw me, he didn't try to give a corporate speech. He just looked at me like he was waiting for a sentence to be passed.

"She left an hour ago," he said, his voice low. "I made sure she was on the plane before I came back up here."

I didn't move from the doorway. "Emptying a room is the easy part, Michael."

"I know." He walked over, stopping just close enough that I could smell the faint scent of his soap. He didn't try to touch me yet. "I didn't want tonight to be about the deal or Julian. I just wanted it to be us. I wanted you to see that I’m trying."

The dinner was quiet, but it wasn't the suffocating silence of the last few days. I watched him across the table. He was focused on me, his eyes following every move I made, every breath I took. It was the kind of attention I used to starve for, but now it felt like a currency he was desperately trying to pay me with.

When we finished, he didn't reach for his work. He reached for my hand, his grip slightly Trembling. He pulled me toward him, his face burying into the crook of my neck. His skin was hot, and I could feel the tension vibrating through his entire frame.

"I’ll do anything, Olivia," he groaned against my skin, his voice thick with a desperation I had never heard in him before. He held me so tight it was almost hard to breathe, his hands tangling in my hair. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need to feel like this is your home again. Just tell me. I’ll make it happen, no matter what it costs."

He didn't wait for me to answer. He tilted my head back, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip, his eyes searching mine for even a flicker of approval to finally kiss me. When he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, the "Offer" felt less like a promise and more like a total surrender.

​I felt the power shift in that moment, a cold, sharp clarity settling over me even as my pulse began to race. He was giving me everything.