Reese's POV

Rain poured mercilessly, beating down on the damp earth as if trying to punish it. It pattered on the windows of the black sedan with a forceful rhythm, as if protesting my presence in the car. Not that I could blame it. If not for her, I wouldn't have dreamt of returning. But here I was. On my way back to the place I hated more than anything in the world. In fact, hate was an understatement. I loathed it.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass of the window. Cars, buildings and people breezed by in a blur, mirroring the thoughts of her that flitted through my mind.

Three years. I'd managed to stay away for three years, carving out a life in a beautiful French locale that I would give anything to return to. As the car tires crunched on the marble driveway, signalling our arrival, I let out a deep sigh. Then I began a mental preparation for the inevitable encounter I already wanted over before it even started.

"We're here, Miss Beaumont," Harrison announced. The sound of the car's engine died right after.

I pushed my door open before he could get to it. The house stood before me in all its Victorian splendor, looking more like a mausoleum than I could remember it being.

While Harrison was still struggling with a traitorous umbrella, I thrust my hands into my coat pockets and hurried towards the house. The rain seemed vengeful as it pelted me. My clothes were quickly soaked but I didn't mind the chill soaking through and biting into my skin. Instead, I welcomed the discomfort, using it as a distraction from the dull, hollow ache that loomed in my heart-the one that had been there since I'd received the call three days ago. It was so heavy that it could have knocked me down to the wet floor.

And at that moment, that would have been welcome. It would mean I didn't have to meet him. Him. The very reason I'd chosen to put this house in my rearview mirror. But fate had other plans.

I pushed the heavy oak doors open, stepping into the familiar scent of lilies. An eerily quiet house welcomed me, save for the consistent tapping sounds of the rain all around. The air was suffocating and for a moment, a strange sensation settled over me. Like a fierce reminder that I didn't belong there.

"You're late, Reese."

The voice was low and calm, echoing around the dimly lit foyer with authority. It was painfully familiar.

I stopped but I didn't turn immediately. Instead, I wiped a drop of rain away from my face with my sleeve. The slow, rhythmic click of heels on the marbled floor echoed repeatedly, until it became loud enough to warn me that he was already close. Then, I turned slowly. My heart nearly stopped.

Roman Sutton was standing next to the landing of the spiral staircase I used to love running across as a kid. In one hand was a glass of clear liquid while his second hand was buried in his pocket. There were only tiny traces left of the man I remembered. Apart from his light brown eyes and pointed nose, nothing else was as it was in my memory. Not even his honey blond hair which he now wore in a neat trim. I could remember it being so scattered on his head, giving him a careless appearance. But not now. The man standing before me seemed totally in control. He looked so full of confidence that he would have convinced me if he said he could stop the angry rain. Dressed in black pants and an equally black t-shirt that molded his frame perfectly, he was dangerously attractive. His well structured abs strained against the material of his clothes and my eyes betrayed me by wandering there for a third glance.

For fuck's sake. Focus, Reese.

But how could I, when my heart was hammering against my chest for no reason?

"My flight got delayed," I explained. My voice came out raspy and thin. There and then, I knew I was in dangerous waters. Fighting hard to maintain composure, I flashed him a bitter smile. "I'm surprised though, Roman. I expected the gates to be locked. That would have saved you the effort of pretending to care about anything concerning me."

"It's not a pretense," he said calmly, taking several steps closer. "Although I can't say I'm happy about it, Rosa would have wanted you here. This is me respecting her wishes even in her death. Nothing more."

"Oh, I wasn't expecting anything more," I returned curtly. I could feel it returning. The familiar flare of the deep-seated hatred I felt for him and everything he represented in my life. He was the reason I had to leave home. He was the reason my mother was dead and also the reason I didn't get to spend her last moments with her. She may have died three days ago but her absence in my life started three years ago. Now it was irredeemable.

Yes, I was right to hate him. But as he moved even closer, the woody scent of expensive cologne filling my nostrils, I also hated the way my breath caught in my throat. He was tall, towering over me like a damn tree.

"Welcome home," he said. The sarcasm dripping from his voice hit me like a slap to the face.

"Don't even think of it," I snapped, stepping closer to him before I realized it. I pinned my emerald eyes to his. "I'm only here to bury my mother. As soon as her coffin hits the earth, I'm getting back on a plane and returning to France. Forever."

Roman didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. Reaching out with one hand, he carefully tucked away the stray stand of hair that rested on my face. His hand brushed against my skin in the process. Brief as the contact was, it made my heart jump. Catching myself before I could lean into the touch, I jerked back, heart still dancing in my chest.

His expression smoothed into something unreadable. "This is the part where I remind you that the will hasn't been read yet. So you might want to reconsider that plan. Afterall, you're not charity inclined, are you?"

The threat in his statement was not lost on me. I glared at him, my nostrils flaring. He simply stepped back and turned to go. "You should get as much rest as you can. You'll need your strength for the funeral tomorrow."

His retreating footsteps died away within seconds.

The silence that followed was interrupted only by the muffled sound of the now dwindling rain. One thing was clear to me-I couldn't share the same house with him.

Chapter 2

Reese's POV

Roman was right. The funeral demanded much of my strength, both mentally and physically. It happened on an afternoon that was as dull as my life had become since the passing of my mother, Rosa Beaumont. Tears flowed freely from my eyes, made easy by the unbearable ache in my chest at a loss that I would forever regret. And I wasn't the only one that felt that way.

The number of people that turned up at the funeral was surprising. And despite Roman's efforts, the media found a way to be present and cover whatever they could, whenever they managed to beat the watchful security personnel that had been hired for the occasion.

During the whole process, I could barely pay attention to anything other than the grief that constricted my chest. So many people came over to offer their condolences that I eventually started to tune them out. And every time that happened, my eyes found him. That was a recurring theme throughout the funeral. I hated it, yet I was helpless against it. By the time we were ready to leave, two hours later, I'd stolen enough glances at him to last a lifetime.

The drive back to the house was marked by silence. A tiny sense of relief coursed through me as we entered the house. My eyes were swollen from tears and I was eager to go up to my room and spend as much time as possible in isolation.

Roman's voice stopped me just before I could hurry away. "I want you to join me in the library," he said, his voice firm with authority.

I stopped and turned. "No, thank you," I said bluntly. "I'm heading to my room and I won't tolerate any disturbance."

His expression remained blank. "It's about the will. I'll be waiting."

He turned and walked away.

For a moment, I was going to defy him. Show him that he had no say over my life. But then I saw my mother. Heard her soothing voice urging me to comply. Even in death, she still influenced my life. How lucky for Roman.

I met him standing by one of the bookshelves in the large library. The fact that he could manage to be insanely hot while having such an unlikeable personality made my heart heavy with hate for him. He wore a plain expression, his eyes betraying no emotion. He was like a solid, impenetrable wall. How I wish there was a way I could make him tick. Get under his skin and set him off the way he usually did to me.

"Let's get this over with," I said as I stepped into the vaguely familiar space of the library. Everything was books, shelves and velvet curtains. Again, the scent of lilies rented the air. My mother loved them so much that they could have been regarded as her children. Along with the lilies, the thick scent of old papers tickled my nose.

Roman moved towards the mahogany desk in one corner of the library and settled carefully onto the tall leather chair behind it. I watched keenly as he retrieved a thick, cream envelope from one of the drawers in the desk.

"Have your seat." He gestured towards the empty chairs close to the desk.

"I'd rather stand." I crossed my arms, making sure he could sense my impatience as I held his gaze. I found it a little disconcerting that I couldn't get the slightest hint of what was going on in his mind.

"Suit yourself," he said as he lowered his gaze to the envelope. "As you know, I am the executor of Rosa's will..." With a pen knife that he produced from nowhere, he cut the seal of the envelope open. Then he took a folded piece of paper out of it. My eyes followed the paper as he slid it towards the edge of the desk.

He lifted his gaze to me. "As expected, the trust, the house in Paris, the liquid assets... they all go to you. And this house-"

"I don't want it," I interrupted. "Do whatever you wish with it."

"...will remain in my possession," he finished, ignoring my interruption.

I was stunned. Even though I wanted nothing to do with the house, finding out that my mother didn't even deem it fit to pass its ownership to me stung badly. It felt like betrayal.

For a brief second, I saw a faint flicker in Roman's eyes. Satisfaction. I clenched my jaw. I'd had enough.

"Take the fucking house. I don't care. Just lemme know what else is left so I can be out of here tomorrow."

A smile tugged at the corner of Roman's lips. It was a wicked one. "You're not going anywhere."

My anger rose a notch. "Says who? You? In case it didn't occur to you, you're nothing, aside from being the guy my mother wasted her time getting married to."

If my words had any effect on him, it was unnoticeable. He remained perfectly calm as he spoke. "Says this." He tapped his index finger repeatedly on the paper that contained my mother's will. The smile on his face sent chills to my bones.

"What the hell do you mean?" I rushed over to the desk and snatched the paper from it. My heart sank as I read through it. My inheritance had come with a strict stipulation. I had to wait around the house until the whole estate was settled. That was going to take months and I was not to leave the house for more than forty-eight hours within that period of time. Or my inheritance would he forfeited.

Face twisting in horror, I lifted my gaze to Roman's own. "This is insane. She can't do this," I said in dismay.

"But she did. Rosa knew how rebellious you could be. And she also knew the right fix for it."

I let my gaze drop to the paper again. I read its content for the second time, a small part of me hoping that it would be different from what I'd read earlier. But it was still the same. Even from the grave, she'd kept me in a cage. With what she'd stated in her will, she'd denied me the one thing I needed the most-my freedom.

Sudden, white hot anger burned through me. "You bastard!" I growled at Roman. "You put her up to this. You just can't stand the fact that I hate you and I can't tolerate your existence so you manipulated her into doing this."

Roman kept his cool. "I didn't have to make her do anything. She knew what needed to be done."

"I hate you," I said, my voice cracking.

He rose from the chair slowly. A brief smile cut across his face before it was replaced by his usual bland look. "I know. Now go get changed. Dinner is at seven. Don't be late."

Chapter 3

Roman's POV

I lifted my gaze slowly as I heard her approaching. The maid, Mrs. Crawford, was just done setting the dinner table.

"I'll take it from here," I said to her.

Bowing her head slightly, Mrs. Crawford turned and left. She bowed again as she walked past Resse. Resse barely acknowledged it, her gaze locked on mine. Her eyes were a little puffy and her previously scattered hair was now pulled together into a ponytail. Dressed in a black tailored pants and black sweatshirt, she looked every bit like someone who was mourning.

Yet, she looked as beautiful as ever. I felt something twist inside me at that realization. Something I didn't want to confront. Save for the muffled tap of her sock-covered feet on the marbled floor, the dining area was enveloped by a tense silence. There was a hint of defiance in her demeanor as she approached, like someone who had plans to make trouble.

I wasn't going to let her.

I stole a glance at the watch on my wrist. "You kept to time."

She looked at me once and said nothing. Settling gracefully into the cushioned chair at the opposite end of the long table, she sniffed slightly. Since Mrs. Crawford had taken her time to dish out the food, we started eating immediately. Resse focused all her attention on the food as she lifted morsels of lamb chops to her mouth in slow, calculated movements.

I broke the silence after a few minutes.

"How was France?"

She paused with her fork in her mouth, casting an unfriendly glance at me. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

I stiffened at the malice in her tone. But rather than let her see how I was affected by her rude response, I trained my lips into a smile. "There's no need to be hostile, you know? Afterall, we're going to be sharing the same space for months."

"The same house," she corrected sharply. "I'm either blind or I didn't see anywhere in the will that Rosa stated that I have to be around you during my stay here. Or did you?"

My blood froze as I heard my late wife's name. "I won't tolerate you talking about your mother like that."

She leveled me with a taunting gaze. "What will you do about it? Take away my inheritance?"

"No. But I can make your stay here much more inconvenient," I said coolly.

She shot to her feet, eyes blazing. "Just what the hell is it with you, Roman? What do you gain from trying to make my life miserable?"

"I'm only doing what Rosa demanded of me," I answered, my gaze firmly fixed on hers.

Her eyes narrowed with angry curiosity. "Which is?"

"Watching over you. In case you haven't noticed, I'm the only parental figure you have left. And I'm going to make Rosa proud by making sure you grow to become the woman she wants you to be."

"New flash: I don't need you." She spelt the words out for effect.

Huffing angrily, she whipped around and stormed away.

"Reese!" I called out, although a part of me wasn't expecting a response. It was hard for me not to notice the aggressive sway of her well molded ass as she disappeared into the hallway.

After her departure, I finished dinner alone. My blood was still running with adrenaline from our exchange as I continued eating in silence.

Reese hadn't always been like that. I could vividly remember her as a sweet little kid when I'd first gotten married to Rosa years ago. She was jolly and full of life, always with a smile and an armory of questions. Until she started changing. At first, Rosa and I dismissed it as her growing older. But the night she threw words at me that cut deep into my skin was the day I was forced to face what later became the new state of things between us. No amount of reprimand and advice from Rosa and I could get her to stop. Eventually, we shipped her off to France for school and not once did I hear from her in the three years she spent there. But now she's back. And there's no Rosa to try to ease the tension between us.

It was just the two of us. I would make sure she accepted that.

When I finally left the dining area, over an hour later, I headed for Reese's room, my thoughts shuttling between her and all the things I still needed to get done around the estate. In between all that, I also had to confront the ache that had occupied a permanent space in my heart ever since the moment that I received the news about Rosa's death.

On getting to the door of Reese's room, I slowed to a stop. I knocked on the door once and waited. After a few moments without a response, I gave the door a firmer knock. "Reese."

Silence.

When she still didn't respond after the third knock, I turned to go. But I only took one step before I turned back suddenly and acted on the urge to open the door and let myself in.

An empty room welcomed me.

"Resse."

No answer. Only absolute silence in the unfamiliar space of the large room. It had been years since I'd last been there, despite the fact that it was in the same house I'd lived in during that time. Glancing around once, I took my leave, wondering where Reese could have gone. She could be anywhere in the spacious house.

However, I didn't need to search for long before I found her seated behind the desk in her mother's study.

Fury rose quickly inside me as I saw the papers and books scattered across the usually well arranged desk. Rosa had always been particular about her space being neat and orderly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I growled.

Instead of the sharp response that would naturally come from Reese, she simply brought her gaze up. Her face was a mask of pure confusion. She looked like a scared child that had stumbled upon something that she knew she wasn't supposed to.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

Her hand came up slowly. I shifted my gaze in that direction to see a leatherbound book clutched in her fingers. My face creased into a light frown.

I had gone through Rosa's belongings more times than I could count.

I'd never come across that book.

Not even once.