CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR | TOM KAULITZ |

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•TOM KAULITZ•

I'm sitting at the table, surrounded by my family, basking in the glow of victory. My parents look happier than ever and more proud than I've ever seen them before. My sisters are in good spirits, laughing and joking about some guy who's been chasing after Nessa.

It's a scene I've been working toward for months.

And yet, I find myself tuning out of the conversation because I want to look at Tyra instead.

I can't believe she stayed at Zajac's warehouse, looking for me.

She could have been killed, or at the very least, recaptured and held hostage until her brothers returned the money they stole.

She could have just run the moment she escaped the office. But she didn't. Because she knew I was somewhere in the building, probably being tortured, possibly being killed.

That would have been an easy way for her to get out of our marriage contract.

But I don't think she wants to get out of it anymore.

Or at least, not as much as before.

I know I don't want to lose her.

I've come to respect Tyra, and like her, too. I like the effect she has on me. She makes me more reckless, but also more focused. Before I met her, I was going through the motions.

Doing what I was supposed to without really caring.

Now I want to achieve all the same things, but I want it so much more.

Because I want to do it with Tyra by my side, bringing life to the whole enterprise. I take Tyra's hand and hold it, gently running my thumb over hers. She looks up, surprised, but not annoyed.

She smiles up at me, squeezing my hand in return.

Then her phone buzzes and she sneaks it out of her bag to read the message. She's looking at it under the table, so I can't see the screen.

But I notice the immediate change in her expression - how she sucks in a little breath of excitement, her cheeks flushing with color.

"What is it?" I ask her.

"Oh, nothing," she says. "Just a text from my brother."

She quickly stows the phone away. But I can tell she's lit up with excitement, barely able to sit still now.

I take my hand back and drink my wine, trying not to let my irritation show.

What would it take to make Tyra be completely honest with me? When will she open up to me and stop treating me like an annoying overseer?

She's too happy to notice the change in my mood.

"We should order dessert!" she says. "What's your favorite?"

"I don't eat sweets," I say sulkily.

"They have a grapefruit gelato," she teases.

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