Page 41 of Her Nightshade

Now, though…the guilt lingered, heavier than I expected. I overestimated the situation, trusted people to stick to my orders and not take things too far. But there was no undoing it now. And, a dark part of me thought, maybe it was better this way. Ana would never have to worry about Sarah again. Now about Leo…

All night I held her close, but each small move seemed to draw her eyes back to me, her sleepy hazel gaze guarded with a look I couldn’t ignore.

I hated seeing that hint of doubt in her eyes. I couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at me this way, questioning my intentions, my loyalty. I had to make her believe that I had nothing to do with it. Because if she ever slipped away from me, if she ever doubted what I felt for her, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I couldn’t let that happen.

I hadn’t slept all night, my mind tangled in the aftermath of what happened with Sarah.

Hours later, Ana and I were meeting Callan and Sloane for brunch. I didn’t mind it with Sloane—she’d been warming up to the idea that her mother was in love with me, less bothered by the intensity of our relationship. But Callan…since he ran his mouth last time, I couldn’t shake the grudge I held against him.

Of course, we ended up in one of the busiest spots in West Hollywood, a place where eyes trailed our every move. We sat at a small table tucked in a corner of the restaurant, tension lingering in the air between me and Callan.

“I just…I wonder what happened. I obviously didn’t like Sarah, but…I never wanted her dead. I’d never wish death upon anyone,” Sloane said, her wide, sad eyes shifting between Ana and me.

A fresh wave of guilt hit me. This was never meant to end in death, but now that it had, would Ana even believe me if I tried to explain?

“I know. It’s terrible,” Ana replied softly, leaning in toward Sloane.

I felt Callan’s gaze shift in my direction, a familiar irritation rising as he studied me.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, glancing back at Sloane. “Karma’s a bitch. What she did to you…I wanted her dead myself,” he added bluntly.

“Oh, stop,” Sloane said, swatting his shoulder, but I felt a small, involuntary smile tug at my lips. Maybe Callan and I shared more common ground than I thought. But I stayed silent, knowing that anything I added to this conversation would be dissected and could very well twist back on me.

“What doyouthink, Charlie?” Callan asked, his gaze sharp and probing.

“I’m…” I started, lost for words as my mind raced. I wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot like this, and for a second, I felt cornered. But before I could find an answer, Ana cut in.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said firmly. “Sloane, baby, did you finalize everything with the wedding cake?”

I leaned back, letting the conversation shift, though I didn’t catch a word of Sloane’s response. My focus was locked on Callan, his eyes still lingering on me. Had he brought up karma to test me, to see how I’d react? And why was he watching me so closely? Did he have suspicions, or was this just who Callan would always be—someone who didn’t fully trust me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that, in some way, he’d always be watching, always waiting for a crack in my armor.

I wanted nothing more than to be alone with Ana at our cottage. I didn’t think she even realized it had been one monthsince we met, but I wanted to make it special. I had thought about giving her the gift later on in the evening, but by the time we returned, I knew I needed to act fast. I could feel her slowly slipping away.

Ana had just kicked off her shoes as I reached into my suitcase, feeling the soft velvet of the small pouch. I chose this gift carefully, still knowing it might surprise her. But it was meant to symbolize everything I felt—my devotion, my trust, and a promise that went deeper than words.

Ana looked at me as I held the pouch out to her, her curiosity clearly sparking as she took it. She opened it slowly, pulling out the synthetic leather collar and matching leash. The collar was simple but elegant, with a single silver ring and her initials etched subtly into the leather. Her eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and intrigue across her face.

“For me to wear?” she asked softly, a hint of teasing in her words.

I shook my head, reaching to take the collar from her. “No. This is for me, Ana. The collar is for me…to wear for you.” I paused. “And the leash is for you to lead me however you’d like.”

Her smile softened, but I could see the question in her eyes. She touched the leather, tracing the initials with her fingers.

“I wanted to show you a side of myself I’ve rarely shown anyone,” I said quietly. “In the past, I tried to share this…this part of myself. I trusted someone once, told her about my need to surrender, my desire to give up control, to let someone else lead. But she didn’t understand.” I hesitated, the memory a faint ache, even now. “She made me feel…wrong. She made me question who I was. She said it wasn’t attractive, that no one would ever want a man who wanted things like that.”

Ana’s gaze darkened, her expression filled with a quiet, seemingly protective anger on my behalf.

“She told me that what I wanted was…sick,” I continued, the old words still stinging. “For a long time, I believed her. I kept that side of myself locked away, convinced that I couldn’t be the man people expected if I wanted…this. If I wanted to be completely vulnerable.” I took a deep breath. “But with you, I don’t feel that way. I feel safe, like I can trust you with every part of who I am.”

She stayed silent, her hand wrapping firmly around the leash, her gaze unwavering as she watched me, absorbing every word. When I finished speaking, I could see something suddenly shift in her.

“I want you to know that this collar isn’t just a gift. It’s my way of saying that I’m yours. Fully. That I trust you to lead, that I’m giving myself over to you with no hesitation or fear.”

After a moment, she reached up, her touch soft as she placed the collar around my neck, fastening it with a gentle click. The cool leather pressed against my skin. Her fingers lingered on the clasp, her gaze intent. “Charlie,” she began softly. “You don’t have to hold anything back with me. I want you just as you are.”

Her words were like a balm, easing the tension I was carrying. She lifted the leash, wrapping her fingers around it, and her grip felt possessive, like an anchor pulling me closer. “You’re mine,” she whispered, her tone now sharper. “And you’re not weak. You’re real, and I want every part of you.”

I leaned into her touch, letting her pull me closer, then I sank onto my knees in front of her. She held the leash firmly, her hazel eyes dark with desire as she looked down at me.

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