Ryan's POV
The private jet touched down just before sunrise, the skyline of New York casting a sleepy glow over the city. Two months in Chloria had passed like smoke—hazy, intense, and burdened with decisions I never intended to make.
I stepped out first, Dianna's heels clicking on the stairway behind me. She looked stunning, poised as always, wearing a cream silk coat that shimmered under the dawn light. To anyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple returning from an extravagant getaway.
Only Ezra, trailing behind with narrowed eyes, knew better.
"You're sure about this?" he murmured low enough that only I could hear.
"I have to be," I replied, voice clipped.
Dianna walked a step ahead, her smile plastered in place. She played her role well. Fiancée. Future lady of the Saint name. A pure-blooded vampire from a line I was expected to align with.
No one in the human world knew. Not about bloodlines. Not about legacies. Not about what it meant to be me. They saw the Saint family as powerful, untouchable, deeply private, yes—but entirely human.
Let them think that.
"Remember," I added, voice colder now, "No one says a word about Chloria here. Especially not Mia."
Ezra sighed. "I wasn't going to."
I nodded once, jaw tense.
Dianna clung to my arm as the car pulled up. "Darling," she said sweetly, "Do you think Mia will be home?"
I paused.
"She's not my concern anymore."
But she was. She had been since the day she crashed into my life—literally. And when she walked out of my penthouse, the silence she left behind felt louder than her presence ever did.
"Shall we head to the house?" Dianna continued, her voice innocent. "Or… will we be visiting the hospital first?"
Ezra shot me a glance.
I turned to the driver. "Take us to the Saint Tower first."
"Of course, Mr. Saint."
As the city woke up around us, I leaned into the leather seat, gaze unfocused.
No one knew what I really was. Not even Mia.
And it had to stay that way.
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