The Billionaire widowers Last Wife

Her back hit the wall so hard it knocked the air right out of her. For a second, everything disappeared. Sound, breath, even thought. But her instincts stayed wide awake.

Adrenaline shot through her, quick as lightning. Before her mind caught up, her hands shoved at whoever had her wrist. Her pulse thundered in her ears, wild and frantic. The hedge scratched her arm, and cold stone pressed through her coat. Whoever had dragged her into the tight space between the chapel wall and the hedges wasn't letting go.

Just for a heartbeat, her body forgot where she was. Forgot the funeral. Forgot the people. Forgot pretty much everything but danger. Raw and close enough to taste.

She drove her palm into his chest. Hard.

He staggered back a step.

Eloise sucked in air, looked up, then stopped cold.

"Adam?"

Her roommate stared at her, just as shocked, and let go right away. "You're welcome."

She was still panting. "You nearly killed me."

"You're breathing," he said, deadpan. "Which is more than I can say for your self-preservation."

His eyes flicked over her shoulder, toward the chapel. "They were circling you."

"They were talking."

"They were dissecting you," he said, quieter now. "That's not the same."

She rubbed her wrist, annoyed at how her fingers still trembled. "You scared me."

Adam's face softened, but only for a moment. Then he was all sharp edges again, scanning her face like he was hunting for bruises. "Good."

She frowned. "Good?"

"Yeah. You should be scared."

"That's dramatic."

"That's true."

She rolled her eyes, but it got to her anyway. Adam didn't scare easily. He joked, exaggerated, and made everything into a scene, but this wasn't the same. His worry was quieter. Still. Like something wound tight and waiting.

"You looked at him," Adam said.

Eloise stiffened. "I gave my condolences."

"You looked at him," he said again, softer.

Her throat went tight. "Adam."

"I'm not blaming you," he said. "I'm warning you."

She let out a shaky breath. "You're reading too much into a look."

Adam cocked his head. "Am I?"

She didn't answer. Because honestly, she didn't know. And that bugged her more than anything he'd said.

Something shifted in the air.

Not a sound. Not a movement. Just presence. It ran down her spine, slow and sure, impossible to ignore.

Adam felt it too. He straightened, eyes flicking past her.

Eloise turned.

Cassian Blackmoor was walking toward them.

He didn't hurry. Didn't stalk. Just moved with that calm confidence, every step easy, shoulders loose, face composed but not blank. Somehow, space just opened for him, like even the air knew where he belonged.

He stopped a few feet away. His eyes went right to her wrist.

"Are you alright?"

His voice was steady. Not loud, not dramatic. Just real.

Cassian held her gaze for a moment, like he was weighing her answer. Then he looked at Adam. Not a challenge. Not a threat. Just recognition.

Adam nodded, quickly. "She's fine."

Cassian glanced back at her, and neither of them looked away.

The silence between them didn't feel empty. It felt like a held breath, waiting for something that hadn't decided to happen yet.

Adam cleared his throat. "We should go."

Cassian didn't move. Didn't react at all, really. But Eloise felt the moment shift. A thin, delicate thing, not broken, just quietly folded away.

She nodded. "We were just leaving."

Cassian dipped his head. "Of course."

They slipped out the gate in silence. Cold air brushed her cheeks. She told herself that's why her face felt hot.

But warmth didn't usually settle deep in her chest like that.

Later that night, she went out. Not because she wanted anyone around but because she couldn't stand being alone with his voice echoing through her head. She didn't trust herself with how much she wanted to hear it again.

The place she picked was warm and dim, the kind of restaurant where nobody asked questions if you sat alone with a drink. Conversations blurred into a soft background hum.

For a while, it helped. She managed a few steady breaths.

Then something in the room shifted.

Not a word. Not a sound. Just a heaviness.

The air thickened, heavy the way it gets before rain. Full of something you can't see yet, but know is coming.

Her fingers tightened around her glass before she even looked up. Cassian stood a few steps away. He didn't say a word, didn't try to draw attention. He was just there like he'd always been, like she was only now noticing.

Her breath caught. She hated that he could still do that to her.

He looked at her, really looked, his gaze tracing her face, pausing just a split second on the faint red mark at her wrist. Something flashed in his eyes. Not anger, not softness. Just something sharper. It vanished before she could pin it down.

"You're out," he said. Not really a question.

She swallowed. "So are you."

He nodded, quiet. "Yes."

He didn't sit. Didn't ask. He just stood close, comfortable in the space, as if the place belonged to him and the room seemed to agree.

She forced her voice steady. "I didn't expect to see you again. At least not tonight."

His eyes drifted around the room. "This is one of mine.

He said it softly, no bragging, no explanation, just the truth.

Eloise blinked. "You own this place."

"Yes."

That's when she noticed the small things: a server slowed down near him, another straightened up without knowing why. No one made a scene, but they all knew. Power didn't need to shout.

Her pulse sped up.

"Do you always check on your businesses this late?" she asked.

"When I want out of my own head."

She tightened her grip on the glass. "Is it working tonight?"

He met her eyes, steady. "No."

The word sat between them, alive and heavy.

Silence grew, but not empty, not awkward, just thick with something she couldn't name.

"I don't think meeting you was an accident, Eloise," he finally said.

Her breath slowed, chest tightening, like someone was pulling a thread inside her.

"Be careful with me. Most people listen when they're warned."

He stepped back, turned, and walked away.

She didn't move, just stared at the space where he'd stood.

Fear curled low in her stomach. But that wasn't what made her heart race.

That was something else.

Anticipation.