Chloe stepped into the grand lobby of The Evercrest Grand, Carter's small fingers tightening around hers, eyes flickering with curiosity at the gleaming chandeliers above.
She exhaled slowly, scanning the desk—ready to check in, ready to finally put distance between her and Kian Ashford.
But then—the problem.
Kian stood beside her, utterly unbothered, utterly in control of the moment.
And when the concierge typed something into the system, nodding apologetically—she already knew.
"Room 2201 is the only available suite at this time,"
the woman said politely.
Chloe's jaw tightened.
Kian's lips curled slightly—just enough for her to know exactly what was happening.
Bullshit.
She turned toward him, sharp, unamused.
"You're from Marquesia. I know damn well you have your own fucking villa—or multiple houses."
Kian barely flinched.
Instead, he crafted his excuse effortlessly.
"Didn't sleep much last night."
A pause.
Then—calculated ease.
"And my place is far. Traffic's hell. I'm tired."
Chloe inhaled sharply, frustration curling in her chest.
And Carter? He blinked up at Kian, watching, processing, sensing something unspoken.
But in the end?
She had no choice.
She couldn't make a scene.
She couldn't gather unnecessary attention.
So, she followed—knowing damn well this man had already decided his place in this moment.