I plant my feet, squaring off against Remy’s imposing form. My hands shake with rage as I shove the folder back at him. “Andwhat’s your plan, Remy? Keep me locked up in your penthouse, play the hero while you sell out my work and everything I’ve fought for? That’s not survival—it’s surrender.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. His eyes darken to obsidian as he steps closer, crowding my space. “I’m trying to protect you, damn it. You can hate me all you want, but when the time comes, you’ll be alive to hate me. That’s all that matters.”
A laugh tears from my throat, cold and bitter. “Breathing, but empty. A shadow of myself, like you. No, thanks.”
His hand slams down on the counter beside me, the sharp crack making me flinch. “Like me?” His voice drops to that dangerous register that usually makes people cower. “You think I’m empty? A shadow?”
“I think you’ve forgotten what it means to stand for something.” I lift my chin, meeting his glare. “To fight for what’s right instead of what’s profitable.”
“Right?” He sneers the word. “Your moral crusade will get you killed. Is that what Roberto died for? So you could throw your life away on principle?”
The mention of Roberto hits like a physical blow. “Don’t you dare use him against me.”
“I’ll use whatever it takes to keep you alive.” His fingers grip my chin, forcing me to maintain eye contact. “Even if it means destroying your precious principles.”
“Get your hands off me.” Each word comes out clipped and precise.
“Make me.” His challenge hangs between us, charged with something darker than anger. “Show me how strong your convictions really are.”
I grab his wrist, my nails digging into his skin. “You think because we fucked, you own me? That you can dictate my choices?”
His laugh is low and cruel. “No, Eve. I think because I saved your life, I’ve earned the right to stop you from throwing it away.”
“The only mess here is you, thinking you can control me. I’m not one of your puppets, Remy. And I won’t let you—or my father—dictate my life.” The words burst from me, raw and sharp, my hands shaking with rage.
Remy prowls closer, his massive frame casting a shadow over me. His lips curl into that infuriating smirk that makes me want to slap it off his face. “You’re playing a game you don’t understand. Why, Eve? Why are you so adamant about risking your own life? Is it fame? Recognition? Or maybe you’re just desperate to resolve your daddy issues.”
The air leaves my lungs. Everything narrows to a pinpoint of fury, and before I can process what I’m doing, my palm connects with his cheek. The crack echoes through the kitchen. His head snaps to the side, a red mark blooming where I struck him.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t react. He just stands there, his jaw clenched, and the mark on his face grows darker.
“You know nothing about me.” My voice comes out low and cold, trembling with the force of my anger. I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself against the sudden chill that races down my spine. “You can take your plans and go fuck yourself.”
My chest heaves as I glare at him, waiting for his reaction. The silence stretches between us, charged and dangerous. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and there’s something predatory in his gaze that makes my breath catch. The muscle in his jaw ticks—the only sign that I’ve gotten under his skin.
The kitchen feels too small, the air too thick. My palm still stings from the slap, and I can’t stop staring at the mark I left on his face. Part of me wants him to snap, to show some reaction beyond this controlled stillness. The other part knowsI’m playing with fire, poking at a man who’s made careers and lives disappear without a trace.
But I won’t back down. Not from him, not from my father, not from anyone who thinks they can control me through fear or manipulation. I’ve spent too many years fighting and lost too much to give up now.
“I’d rather die standing than live on my knees,” I spit the words at him. “But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You’ve spent so long bowing and scraping to men like my father you’ve forgotten what it means to have a spine.”
I stand there, rage coursing through my veins as I stare at the red mark blooming across Remy’s cheek. My palm still stings from the impact, but the satisfaction of striking him does nothing to calm the fury burning in my chest.
“I made a mistake coming to you for help.” The words come out like shards of ice, cutting through the tension between us. “I’ll be gone in the hour.”
I turn away, desperate to escape his suffocating presence, but his voice—cold and sharp as a blade—freezes me in place.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Something inside me snaps. I whirl back to face him, my hands curling into tight fists. “Excuse me?”
Remy closes the distance between us, his massive frame towering over me. His proximity makes my skin crawl, but I refuse to back down.
“Not until you stop being suicidal with this investigation.” His words drip with condescension. “Until then, you’re staying right here.”
A harsh laugh tears from my throat, bitter and sharp. I hate how it trembles, betraying the panic rising in my chest. “You can’t keep me here against my will, Remy. I’m not one of your damned clients.”
His expression hardens, features settling into something cold and immovable. When he speaks, his voice drops into that commanding tone that makes even hardened criminals fold. “Whether you like it or not, I’m in control now.”
