I exhale, annoyed. Yes, you should have. “That’s fine, Hans.”

Hayden tsks beside me, and my eyes sweep across to her. I raise my eyebrow in question.

She raises her eyebrow right back.

Don’t fucking piss me off.

I snap my eyes away. Don’t tell me our first-ever fight is going to be in the back of my limo while stuck in traffic.

I. Am. Not. In. The. Mood.

One and a half silent hours later

The car pulls into my building, and Hans fusses around nervously. Even he can tell she’s pissed. Who am I kidding? The space station on Mars can tell she’s pissed.

“I’m so sorry about the delay, Hayden,” Hans stammers.

Hayden smiles calmly. “Please, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

She gives him a huge smile as she opens her door before the doormen get a chance to. They all come running to help her out of the car.

Her being nice to Hans infuriates me even more. So she’s not pissed in general.

Just with me.

I climb out of the car behind her. “Mr. Miles,” they all say excitedly. “Welcome home, sir.”

“It’s good to be here,” I reply. They go to take our bags, and I stop them. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

We walk into the foyer. “Good evening, Mr. Miles.” The staff all smile. “Welcome home, sir.”

“It’s great to be here.” I smile back. It is genuinely good to be back.

“This way.” I gesture to the elevator, and we get in and turn to face the front. I push the button to the penthouse.

Hayden’s eyes flick over to me. “You live here?” she says, unimpressed.

“We live here.” I glare at her.

She fakes a smile, and I see red.

Game on.

The doors open to my foyer, and I step out and scan my fingerprint. The double doors unlock, and we are met with a floor-to-ceiling magical view over New York, the city lights twinkling as far as the eye can see.

Hayden stops on the spot, shocked to silence.

How you hating that money thing now?

I walk in and put the bags down, and she tentatively follows as she looks around.

I try to imagine what it must be like to see it for the first time. It’s industrial trendy, with the best of everything over two floors.

She walks over to the window and peers down at the road way below. “How high are we?”

“Sixty floors.”

She frowns and steps back from the window as if frightened.

“I’ll give you the tour,” I say. “Living area.” I gesture to the room we’re standing in. I walk down to the other end of the penthouse. “This is the kitchen.” I open the invisible door. “Wine cellar downstairs.”

Her eyes are wide as she looks around.

“Down this end are four bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, and the laundry room. Gymnasium.” I walk her down the large hallway, and she peers in at all the rooms. I gesture up the stairs. “This way.” I take the stairs, and she follows me in silence as she looks around.

“Up here we have another living area, bedrooms, and another living area or theater room.” She looks around, still choosing to remain silent.

“The master bedroom is down here.” I open the double doors to my bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling glass walls have 180-degree views over New York.

Hayden’s mouth falls open, and she makes an audible gasp.

I smile proudly.

This is the most impressive bedroom of all time, if I do say so myself.

Hope fills me.

“Look.” I open the walk-in wardrobe doors in a rush. “This will be your wardrobe here.” She peers in at the huge empty room. “We can fit it out however you like.”

“And look at this, babe.” I lead her into the bathroom. “Look at the bathtub.” I smile. “It’s a spa. We can spend hours in there. You love baths,” I remind her.

She nods and steps back, still processing.

I open my wardrobe door. “This is my wardrobe.”

She peers in, and then a frown crosses her face, and she walks past me into the wardrobe. I hold my breath as I watch her look over my three bays of expensive suits. Her hand runs over the shoes neatly lined up. Her eyes rise to the floor-to-ceiling tie rack I have for my ties. She goes to the set of drawers that is freestanding in the middle.

Don’t open the . . .

Too late. She opens the top drawer and peers in at my designer watch collection, displayed in a glass cabinet.

She swiftly closes the drawer and walks past me out of the wardrobe.

Huh?

What the hell does that mean?

I wait for a moment and walk out to find her staring out the window over the city.

“Are you going to say something?” I ask.

“It’s beautiful.” She forces a smile.

She has more to say.

“And?”

“What . . .” She pauses as if searching for the right words.

I wait.

“What do you do at Miles Media?”

“I’m the head of marketing.”

She frowns as she stares at me. I can see her mind running a million miles per minute. “Where is your office?”

I roll my lips. Here we go . . . “London.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You live in London?”

“Yes.”

“London.” She gasps. “You live in fucking London?”

“I do.”

“And when were you going to tell me this?” She gasps, affronted.

“I’m telling you now.”

She stares at me, horrified.

“You’re going to love it there, Hays.”

“I am not moving to London, Christopher.”

“What does that mean?” I snap.

“Exactly what I said. I’m not moving there.”

“You said you would live anywhere as long as we’re together,” I splutter.

“When did I ever say that?”

“Oh, you said it, all right; I clear-as-day remember. But what you really meant was that you would move anywhere for a pauper, but you won’t fucking move for me?” I bark.

“Would you move for me?” she fires back.

“If it meant we were together, then yes.”

“Okay, great. That settles it.” She dusts her hands together. “We’ll live in the country.”

I see red.

“Don’t give me your smart-ass fucking attitude, Hayden,” I yell. “I have responsibilities with Miles Media.”

“And what about your responsibilities to me?” she yells. “My work is in the country.”

“I run a multibillion-dollar company, Hayden. I need to live between London and New York. I can’t live in Bumfuck, Nowhere, while you play with cows.”

“Play with cows!” Her eyes bulge from their sockets.

“My job is important.”

“Obviously.” She throws her hands up in the air and then marches from the room.

“Get back here!” I yell.

“Go fuck yourself.”