Page 37 of North

“You think Mark’s some saint?” North said finally, his voice low and laced with bitterness. “He isn’t. But if it makes you feel better to think he cares, go ahead. Just don’t ruin this thing between us over some misguided hope you’ll fit into my father’s perfect family image.”

His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I rolled onto my side, my back to him, as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

“That’s easy for you to say,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t respond, and the silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I stared into the dark, my thoughts conflicted, torn between anger and the flicker of hope I’d felt in his vulnerability.

I hated him. I wanted him. And I had no idea what to do about it.

Chapter 13

North

The hum of the engine filled the silence between us as I drove, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. Quinn sat beside me, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress, fidgeting. She wasn’t usually like this—nervous, uncertain. I hated that she was. Hated that I was the reason for it.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

My eyes flickered toward her, stealing glances when I thought she wouldn’t notice. She looked different tonight—soft in a way that made my chest feel tight. The dress was simple, nothing flashy, but it clung to her in all the right places, and I couldn’t help but imagine peeling it off her. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she smelled like something sweet, something delicate.

Something I was about to ruin.

The thought made me grip the wheel tighter. This wasn’t supposed to be hard. I was supposed to bring her here, let Victor and the others remind her of who she was—of who her father was—watch her break under it, and walk away with nothing but the satisfaction that she’d finally felt the weight of what she’d walked into. That was the plan. That was always the plan.

So why the fuck did my stomach twist every time I looked at her?

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft, hesitant.

I forced a smirk. “Yeah, rabbit. Just thinking.”

She nodded, but I caught the way her fingers clenched against her dress, the way her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. A part of me wanted to reach over and take her hand, to tell her she didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to.

Instead, I turned into Victor’s driveway, tires crunching over the gravel as the house loomed ahead of us. The estate was lit up like a goddamn palace, the glow of expensive lights casting long shadows over the manicured lawn. Laughter and music spilled out onto the night air, and my jaw clenched at the sound.

This was a mistake.

I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. The urge to turn around, to take her somewhere else, anywhere else, clawed at the edges of my mind. But how the fuck could I do that when it meant abandoning the others—my best friends.

“North?” Quinn’s voice pulled me back. She was looking at me now, concern flickering in her hazel eyes. “You sure you’re okay?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and smirked, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch—trusting, unaware. “Yeah, rabbit. Let’s go.”

She hesitated but nodded, reaching for the door handle. I stepped out first, walking around the car before she could fully open her door. I wasn’t a fucking gentleman, but for some reason, I didn’t want her walking in there alone.

As soon as we stepped inside, the air changed. The space was filled with bodies—too many people, too much noise. The smell of expensive cologne, alcohol, and something heavier—weed or cigars—hung in the air. Eyes turned toward us the second we entered, recognition flickering across familiar faces. Smirks, whispers, knowing glances. It made my skin itch.

Quinn tensed beside me, gripping my arm as she scanned the room. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be this big,” she whispered, her voice laced with unease.

I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. You’re with me.”

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? My father was going to fucking kill me when he found out about this.

I spotted Victor near the bar, lounging like he owned the place. He caught my eye and lifted his glass in silent acknowledgment before pushing off the counter and making his way toward me. His smirk was lazy, calculated.

“North,” he greeted, clapping a hand on my shoulder. His dark eyes flicked to Quinn, and something unreadable passed through them before a smirk crawled onto his features.

“Quinn,” he purred, dropping a kiss on her cheek while I bit back the jealousy of seeing his lips on her skin. Ignoring the urge to snatch her back and clean it off, I settled for glaring at him while she raised an eyebrow.

“Victor, you’re not usually this friendly.” Her voice was sarcastic, and the frisson of pleasure I felt at hearing it was fucked up, but real. We didn’t need her to be aware that something was going on.

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