I can't even describe what's going through my head right now.

I talked to the hotel manager and scoured through the security footage to figure out what happened, and every second I watched the events unfold, I felt the rage tremble in my veins. I had to get out of there. I had to take a plane to go back home.

Stomping up the stairs, I try to suppress the anger still blinding my sight by taking another deep breath, hoping to hell it calms me enough to have this talk now.

Multiple voices echo through the hallway as I reach my apartment and turn my key in the lock, quietly opening the door before I settle my duffle bag on the floor.

"—unbelievable!" Mila is the one speaking while I stride down the hallway, every nerve ending in my body desperately asking to see my girl again.

"Buttercup, you need to calm down."

"Why? I just don't understand it, Dad. Why the fuck is she doing this?"

"She's not working alone," I say when I lean against the doorway to the living room, watching how everyone turns to look at me.

I've seen the news. I've seen what they wrote about Mila, and when I study her for only a split second, I know this is taking a toll on her, probably even more than it affects me.

"Hayden," she whispers, and at that moment all I want is to have my woman back in my arms. The need to feel her close to me is overwhelming, especially after these past weeks. But I know I need to clear things up first.

I turn to Sam and Jasmine, who haven't said a word since I opened my mouth. "Can you give us a second, please?"

"Yeah, of course..." Jas shoots me a smile before she grabs Sam by the elbow and pulls him out of the living room. As soon as they're out of eyesight, I redirect my attention to Mila, who looks like she's about to combust any moment now. "I just want to know who he is," I say, immediately wanting to slap myself when I realize what my words must sound like.

"Are you serious right now?" She scoffs, and I open my mouth to interject, to do damage control, but she raises her hand to stop me. "No! Are you actually asking me that? Are you really suggesting I did this? What happened to trusting each other, to communicating whenever we can? What happened to you and me against the world?"

I widen my eyes when she yells and jumps up from the armchair she just occupied. "Mila, please, calm down..."

"No! I'm not calming down! How do you expect me to calm down if you're standing here, accusing me of cheating on you? Are you—"

"Mila, please..."

"No! I will not have you accuse me of this when you've been hanging around Meredith! You're the one who—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. What?" I interrupt her again, and this time she studies me with wide eyes, fury still written on her face.

She blinks a few times, her chest heaving with deep breaths. "I know you talked to her." Mila shoves her phone in my face, and there it is. A picture of Meredith and me.

Fuck. This isn't good.

"That son of a bitch."

"Who?" Mila asks, and I see how furious she is, shooting me glares with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Okay, Hayden. Think. Step by step.

"Talk to me!" Mila doesn't even give me the chance to think, her strained voice instantly making me look at her.

"Okay, okay, would you please stop yelling at me?"

My words make her react; her eyes suddenly widen when she takes a few deep breaths. "Shit, I..." She sits back down on the armchair, running her hand over her face. "I'm sorry. This is just..."

"I know, baby, I know." I squat between her legs, interlacing her fingers with mine to make her look at me.

The apology is visible in her eyes, and I wait a few more seconds before I ask, "Do I have permission to speak?"

That makes her smile, and she places one hand on my cheek, her loyal brown eyes gazing right at me as she whispers, "Please."

"Thank you." I press a kiss on her palm. "First of all, I don't believe those pictures. I'm kind of offended you think I did, honestly. I'm not stupid. I know who you are, Mila. I know what we have, and I know you do too."

I never thought Mila cheated on me. I know she's loyal to the bone and she wouldn't do this. Besides that, the picture was clearly old, and I only asked for his name to know whom to avoid from now on.

"For the record," she whispers, "the mere thought of another person touching me makes my skin crawl."

"Likewise." I grin, running my thumb over her cheek as I watch it fill with color.

She shoots me a smile, a smile full of emotion, a smile that shows how overwhelmed she must be with everything that's going on. I still feel guilty for so many things, and this situation definitely doesn't make things better. "So...what happened?"

A heavy sigh leaves my throat from that question; I have no idea how to explain this.

Mila tightly squeezes my hand, like she's trying to give me all the reassurance she can gather to make me feel better. The fact that she now wants to calm me, instead of focusing on herself, makes me want to kiss the ever-living hell out of her.

Knowing we still have a lot to talk about, I instead lift her up before I slide into the armchair she just occupied, her legs dangling over the armrest as she gets comfortable in my lap.

"When I got back to the hotel," I say once she settled, "I realized something was off. I didn't expect Meredith to be sitting on my goddamn couch, though, I gotta admit."

"What?" She leans back, her wide eyes studying mine.

"Yeah, she was just sitting there, trying to get close to me and saying all kinds of bad things about you. She gave me the pictures, and I kicked her out before I even got a look at what they were."

Mila sighs, a frown crossing her lips as she says, "That's my ex, by the way. I don't know how she got the pictures and why she thought this would work. You know I'm not the type of woman who openly makes out with random strangers."

I can't help but grin, remembering that very first night we met. The irony of this situation is ridiculous, really.

"Shut up," Mila whispers when she sees the smile on my face, her quiet giggle settling straight in my heart as she playfully slaps my chest.

"I didn't say anything." I smirk, pressing a swift kiss on her cheek. I'm glad we lightened the mood a bit, but we still have a shit-ton to talk about. "Anyway, I talked to security to find out how Meredith could get access to my room. I mean, no one else has a key, so she must've broken in, right?"

She nods, and I see how she's hanging to every word I'm saying, desperately waiting to let me explain.

"Well, the security guard could tell my room wasn't broken into."

"Wait, what? What's that supposed to mean? How did they get in?"

"It means they used a key card to get in."

She looks as flustered as I must've looked when the security guy told me that specific detail. "But you..."

"But I used my own card to get into the room, yes."

"I don't understand," she says, her brows furrowed as she tries to figure out what exactly I'm telling her.

"I didn't, either. But then they showed me the footage, and I remembered something. I remembered my contract entailed that my manager is given a spare key card to my room whenever I'm on my own. No idea why—I guess it's one of those things you never think twice about until something like this happens," I explain.

"And in that case, your manager is..."

"Hank. My manager is Hank."

Mila's eyes widen, her mouth gaping open until she says, "That motherfucker."

I chuckle at the tone of her voice; it's weird to hear her swear in a normal conversation. "Yeah, that motherfucker. But there's even more."

Mila doesn't even say anything, she simply takes a deep breath, waving her hands around, urging me to continue.

"Well, when I browsed the footage, I saw Meredith and Hank, which is obvious by now. What I also saw was that shortly after I left my room, Hank came running out of there."

"Well, that's not a surprise."

"No...the surprise was he wasn't alone. A tall blonde who looks very much like Kilian accompanied him."

Mila immediately tenses up, that fire raging in her eyes again when she mutters, "That fucking bitch."

I'm still having a hard time suppressing a smirk with the way she says the words; they just sound unnatural coming out of her mouth.

"It's not funny." She sighs, commenting on my amusement.

"No, it's not. It's disgusting," I agree. And still, I can't help but smile, just a bit. Because this proves we're strong, that we trust each other, and we can conquer it all, as long as we do it together.

"Why are you smiling, then?" she asks, and I pull her closer to me, her petite body pressed firmly against mine.

"I'm smiling, Lucky..." I grin when I feel her thundering heart against my chest, her excitement basically slamming right into me, "because I'm really fucking proud of us."

And the way she smiles back at me tells me she knows it too. She smiles brighter than the sun itself, pride and love radiating off her as she leans in, her nose brushing against mine. "I am too."

"We're pretty awesome, huh?"

"We are..." I almost don't hear her when she whispers, "I missed you."

"You have no goddamn idea how much I've been wanting to see you, Lucky."

I can't help myself anymore. To be honest, I have no clue how I managed to stay away from her for the last hour or so, and so I give in, knowing things are right between us, after all. I lean in, finally, my heart thundering in my ears as soon as our lips collide.

There's no use denying it: I'm an addict, craving his next shot, craving that petite brunette doe-eyed drug that causes an explosive reaction every time we touch.

And I try to take her in, to inhale her scent, feel her hair on my hands, enjoy her soft body pressed beneath my fingers like it's the only thing I need to survive. Well, honestly, sometimes I think it is...

We pull back after a little while, and I watch how her eyes fill with love, determination, and so much strength that I can't help the smile on my lips.

"What's our plan, love?" I ask, studying the glimmer in her eyes with great interest.

"We'll give them hell."

"And how do we do that?"

A triumphant smile plays on her lips as she combs her fingers through my hair. "We'll show them they underestimated us." Her gaze lands on the phone on the table next to us, her voice thick with conviction. "We'll beat them at their own game."