Chapter 68. Aftermaths

They kissed like vengeance and forgiveness had collapsed into one. His mouth met hers with the urgency of confession, the gravity of unspoken promises.

Harper tasted regret, want, guilt—and beneath it, something bolder: possibility.

He pulled back, breath ragged. They trembled in the hush of that corridor, stripped bare—not just bodies, but everything beneath. The club noise felt distant now, like a half-remembered fever dream.

“Stay,” she whispered—barely more than air. But he did.

The hotel room was dark, lit only by a sliver of moonlight through blackout curtains. Knox let the door click softly behind him, then closed the small distance between them. In that quiet pull, she felt their shared burden—the weight of betrayal, brittle trust, and desire tangled in power.

He cupped her face. Fingers traced the curve of her cheek, then drifted to her neck. His thumb brushed her pulse. “I’ve missed knowing where your heart beats.”

She closed her eyes. “