Chapter Six

Odette paced her small living room, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The memory of Anton’s jacket resting on her shoulders still lingered, a stark reminder of the man who had once been her world and was now the source of her turmoil. Amerie had gone to bed hours ago, leaving Odette alone with her thoughts, which spiraled uncontrollably in the dim light of their shared apartment.

Why was he here? Why now, after all these years?

The way he had spoken to her outside the club—the familiarity in his tone—set her on edge. Did he really think he could walk back into her life like nothing had happened? Her heart was a battlefield of longing and anger. She wanted to hate him for everything he’d done, but the vulnerability in his voice and the way his eyes lingered on her made it clear he hadn’t moved on any more than she had.

She sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around her. It smelled of spice and something distinctly Anton, a scent that felt like home and heartache all at once. She thought about tossing it, but she couldn’t bring herself to let it go.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of her phone on the coffee table. A text.

She hesitated before picking it up. The sender was an unknown number, but the message was clear:

We need to talk. Please. Don’t shut me out again.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to reply. Instead, she locked her phone and tossed it aside. He didn’t get to demand anything from her—not anymore.

The next day, Odette arrived at the office determined to focus on work. She had spent the night tossing and turning, but she was resolved to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she needed was for her personal life to interfere with her professional one, especially with Claude breathing down her neck about the Rosier Group project.

As she stepped into her cubicle, Doug greeted her with his usual cheer.

“Morning, Dotty,” he said, placing a steaming cup of Earl Grey on her desk.

She managed a small smile. “Thanks, Doug.”

“Rough night?” he asked, noting the dark circles under her eyes.

“You could say that,” she replied, sipping the tea.

Before he could press further, the intercom buzzed, calling for all team members working on the Rosier project to meet in the conference room. Odette felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. She knew she would see Anton again, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“Showtime,” Doug said, giving her an encouraging nudge as they made their way to the conference room.

The air in the conference room was thick with tension when Odette walked in. Anton was already there, standing at the head of the table, effortlessly commanding attention. His sharp suit and confident demeanor exuded authority, but his silver-grey eyes softened when they landed on her.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth and steady.

Odette avoided his gaze, taking a seat as far from him as possible. Daisy, sitting two seats over, immediately began fawning over Anton, batting her eyelashes and giggling at everything he said. Odette clenched her fists under the table, trying to focus on the presentation.

Anton began outlining the project goals, his voice calm and professional. He didn’t address her directly, but she could feel his eyes on her every so often. It was unnerving, and she hated how her body still reacted to him.

When the meeting ended, Odette made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape before Anton could corner her. But she wasn’t fast enough.

“Odette,” his voice called out behind her.

She froze, her heart racing. She turned slowly, schooling her features into a mask of indifference.

“What do you want, Mr. Dimitri?” she asked, her tone icy.

He flinched at her formal address but quickly recovered. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low so only she could hear.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she replied, her tone clipped.

“Please, just give me five minutes,” he pleaded, his eyes searching hers.

“I gave you ten years,” she said, her voice breaking slightly before she turned and walked away.

Anton watched her retreating figure, his heart heavy with regret. He had expected her anger, but seeing it firsthand was far more painful than he anticipated. He had spent years convincing himself that staying away was the right thing to do, that it would keep her safe. But now, seeing the hurt in her eyes, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Trouble in paradise?” Damien’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Anton turned to see his best friend leaning against the wall, his expression one of mild amusement.

“Not now, Damien,” Anton said, running a hand through his hair.

“Come on, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy,” Damien said, pushing off the wall to stand beside him. “She has every right to be angry.”

“I know,” Anton admitted. “But I can’t lose her again.”

“Then you’re going to have to fight for her,” Damien said. “And knowing Odette, that won’t be a walk in the park.”

Anton nodded, determination hardening his features. He had made mistakes—plenty of them—but he wasn’t going to let Odette slip through his fingers again.

That evening, Odette returned home exhausted, emotionally and physically. She dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch, her mind replaying the day’s events.

She was startled by a knock at the door. Frowning, she got up and peered through the peephole. Her heart sank.

It was Anton.

She hesitated before opening the door just a crack.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Odette, please,” he said, his tone earnest. “I just want to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied, starting to close the door.

He placed his hand against it, stopping her. “Just five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

She hesitated, her resolve wavering. Finally, she stepped aside, allowing him in.

Anton entered cautiously, his eyes scanning the small apartment. It was a stark contrast to the luxury he was accustomed to, but it felt warm, lived-in.

Odette crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for him to speak.

“I owe you an explanation,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

“You owe me a lot more than that,” she shot back.

He nodded, acknowledging her anger. “You’re right. I do. But for now, I just want you to know the truth. About why I left.”

Her heart clenched at his words, but she kept her expression neutral. “Then start talking,” she said, her voice cold.

Anton took a deep breath, the weight of his past bearing down on him. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to,” he said. “I left because I had to. There were… circumstances—dangerous ones—that I couldn’t risk dragging you into.”

She scoffed. “And you thought abandoning me without a word was the best way to handle it?”

“I thought it was the only way to keep you safe,” he admitted. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I did, but I swear, Odette, I only wanted to protect you.”

She stared at him, her emotions warring within her. She wanted to believe him, but the pain of his betrayal still burned brightly.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m asking for a chance to prove that I’ve changed. That I can be the man you deserve.”

Silence hung between them, heavy and charged. Finally, Odette stepped back, her walls going up once more.

“Goodnight, Mr. Dimitri,” she said, opening the door and gesturing for him to leave.

Anton hesitated, his eyes pleading, but he nodded and walked out.

As the door closed behind him, Odette leaned against it, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t know if she could let him back into her life, but a part of her knew it wasn’t just her decision to make anymore.

Something deep inside her whispered that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.