Page 116 of The KING Review

Cade’s hands slow, and he tosses a curl of lemon peel into the glass. I stare at the way it floats, perfect spiral, and try to pretend I’m not the one unraveling.

“I mean,” I forge on, hating myself for needing to say it out loud, “what if I make everything worse? Because of… you know. Marie. Grant says I’m not, but she’s already gone nuclear, and I keep thinking—is this just going to be the thing that finally makes him lose Sera? What if it’s me? What if I’m the reason?”

My phone buzzes, shattering my spiral. I glance down, and my heart squeezes so hard it almost hurts. There’s a photo from Grant.

Sera is upside-down in her bed, feet on the pillow, wearing a winter hat that’s about three sizes too big. She looks like a tiny polar astronaut.

Professor Daddy:

When I ask her tomorrow why she did this, she’ll just say because she wanted to.

I bark a laugh, but it comes out wet.

Me:

she’s the absolute sweetest

I literally can’t wait to hang out with her for real

Professor Daddy:

I fear Sera’s chaos vibrates on the same wavelength as yours.

The words hit me right in the chest. I don’t know if I want to laugh or sob. Maybe both. I’m still staring at the screen when a glass lands in front of me, bracing and bright. Cade leans against the counter, smiling expectantly.

“Sorry,” I mumble, cheeks going molten. “I’m, uh, distracted.”

He crosses his arms, blue eyes searching. “You love him, don’t you?”

The question detonates in my chest. I can’t look at him right away. Instead, I focus on the drink—gin, lemon, something sharp and fragrant that makes my eyes sting.

I nod, slow, then force myself to look up. “Yeah. I do. I guess it’s stupid—to get so involved this soon, with the age difference, the whole kid thing, the fact that he’s a professor and I’m a student—but I can’t help it. I just… do.”

Cade’s smile turns to a sad frown. All the mischief is gone, replaced by something so gentle it almost knocks me flat. “Sometimes love is stupid, Neve. Doesn’t make it wrong.”

My phone buzzes again. This time, I just let it rest on the countertop, Grant’s message glowing like a secret. I want to hold onto that feeling for as long as I can, before the rest of the world gets in again.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Executed at Dawn

Grant

I’m not expecting another knock at the door. It’s too late for delivery, too early for a neighbor to bitch about the trash. The air in my apartment is heavy and sleepy, the static of Sera’s white noise machine pulsing through the hall. For a beat, I just stare at the door.

Then comes the second knock, sharper and less polite. That’s not Marie—she doesn’t go ‘less polite’ until she’s inside, where there are fewer witnesses.

I get up, careful not to make a sound, and check the peephole.

It’s Fia.

She’s in a trench coat like she’s coming to serve me papers, hair sleek, mouth set in a line. When I open the door, she’s already halfway through speaking before I can open my mouth.

“Don’t say a word,” she intones, breezing past me into the kitchen. She drops her bag with the velocity of a thrown gauntlet. “I’ve seen the email. I’ve seen the HR report. I know who did it, and I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

I blink, still standing at the door. “You want a drink?”

She eyes me. “No, thanks.” She scans my face, jaw ticking. “You do, though. You look like you’re about to be executed at dawn.”