Chapter 2The Light in His Darkest Chase

I didn't see him again until two months later.

By then, I had sold the massive mansion he left me and downsized to a sleek, two-bedroom apartment in a prime neighborhood. It was much smaller, but it didn't feel hollow when I was alone. The best part was the terrace. The natural light was phenomenal, and I spent countless afternoons out there just painting.

When the sun went down, I picked up my old gig. I sang at a local speakeasy, watching the night unfold, gathering inspiration for my canvas.

I was just covering a shift for a friend tonight. I never expected to see Rowan.

I sat on the stage. He sat in a velvet booth. When our eyes met, his gaze was utterly deadpan.

Only, the gorgeous woman draped over his shoulder wasn't Serena.

Did his dream girl already lose her shine? That was fast, even for him.

After two more songs, I stepped off the stage to use the restroom. I found Rowan leaning against the hallway wall, smoking.

Two months of dead silence between us. I couldn't even formulate a casual greeting that didn't sound terribly awkward.

He looked at me through a haze of gray smoke. His voice was a little rough. "How have you been?"

"I've been good."

He took a drag. "Running out of money?"

I knew exactly what he was implying. He was asking why I was hustling at a bar when he had left me a house, a car, and an alimony check thick enough to let a normal person retire in luxury.

I didn't give him a straight answer. "Can you ever really have too much money?"

Rowan stubbed out his cigarette. A cold, cynical smirk touched his lips. "Right. I almost forgot. You always did love the cash."