“Jackson—” My voice is full of pain. And, yes, of understanding. But he doesn’t let me continue. Just shakes his head and pushes on.

“I’m strong enough for the both of us, baby. And this is over. It has to be. So as of this moment, we’re done. Because I won’t live like this, knowing that you are tied to a man who can’t even touch you. You deserve a life, Syl. I won’t have you thrown into a cage of our making just because I’m being tossed into one.”

“That’s not a decision you can make for me,” I say.

“The hell it’s not. You’ve handed me control, baby.”

My brows rise. “Control? In bed, sure. But about this? No fucking way.”

“Do you remember the photo I took of you?”

I know what he’s talking about, of course. I’d asked him to take it after Reed had sent me the blackmail photos. I’d needed to grab back some of what Reed had stolen, and so I’d had Jackson take a photo of me, bound and naked.

So, yeah. Of course I remember the photo.

I say nothing, but he knows that I do. How could I not? “That photo was the ultimate submission,” Jackson says.

“Bullshit. I asked you to take it.”

“You did,” he agrees. “But now it’s mine. I hold it. I control it. That wasn’t just about sex, Sylvia. The minute you asked me to take that photo you handed me control in your life, too. Because I could destroy you in a heartbeat.”

“You wouldn’t.” Despite everything he’s said tonight, I know that much is true.

His smile is a little sad. “No. Never. But that doesn’t change the basic fact—you gave yourself to me. Trusted me fully with your reputation. Your privacy. And now, baby, you have to trust me on this.”

“But I don’t,” I say.

He sighs. “Fair enough. But I know I’m right. And if you won’t walk away, Syl,” he says in a voice that breaks my heart, “then I will.”

“Are you sure about this?” Damien asked Jackson. They were on the Malibu property, meandering down pathways that led from the house to the beach. Now, they paused beside the tennis courts, and Damien opened the gate.

Jackson followed him onto the green surface, and took a seat at a courtside table across from his brother. “Believe me,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about little else.”

For hours now, he’d felt lost. Hollow. He’d really left her.

He was really going to move forward without Sylvia at his side. He’d fought so damn hard for her, and now he was throwing it away.

No.

No, he couldn’t look at it like that. He was fucking saving her. She deserved more than some sad life as a prison widow. And while he believed her when she said she would take care of Ronnie, how the hell could he put that on her? Only by being a selfish prick, that’s how.

Yes, he wanted his daughter with the woman he loved.

But even more than that, he wanted Sylvia happy and free. Not trapped.

So, yeah. As much as he hated it, he was sure about this. Sure enough that he’d walked away from her. Sure enough that he’d cut her to the core.

“I’m sure,” he said once more to his brother.

Damien didn’t nod, didn’t argue. He just looked at him, those dual-colored eyes seeing more than Jackson wanted to reveal.

“She loves you,” Damien finally said. “Do you really think that walking away will make her love you any less?”

Jackson ran his fingers through his hair, the words hurting him more than he wanted them to. “I think it will make her live her life.”

Damien lifted a brow, the expression almost smug. “Like you did after she left you in Atlanta?”

Jackson’s gut twisted as he fought against the truth of Damien’s words. This was different, dammit. He was going to fucking prison. “I just need to know if you’ll stand as Ronnie’s guardian, Damien. The rest isn’t up for discussion.”

For a moment, he thought his brother would argue. But then Damien nodded. “Of course I will. I need to talk it over with Nikki, but I’m certain she won’t have a problem. Ronnie’s my niece, after all.”

Jackson nodded slowly, relieved. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Everything around him was going to shit. But Ronnie, at least, was going to be okay.

“Damien told me what happened,” Nikki says. She’s arrived at my apartment with a bottle of wine. “It may only be lunchtime, but I figured you could use this.”

“Thanks.” I step back to let her in. I’m not entirely sure I want company, but I can’t deny that I appreciate the thought. And I know that Nikki understands what I’m feeling. Damien walked away from her once, too. I’d been working his desk, and even I hadn’t known where he was. And like Jackson, he’d done it supposedly to protect her.