“They’re dangerous.”
The warning was quiet but unmistakable.
He leaned in slightly.
Enough for her to feel it.
The heat. The gravity.
“Arden, they notice everything. And they don’t forget.”
The words landed.
But it wasn’t fear. It was friction. It was heat.
It was him.
His tension. His restraint.
Her pulse jumped. But her voice held.
“I can handle it.”
Her hand hovered near his—fingertips almost brushing.
He didn’t pull back.
He just watched her.
The silence between them stretched.
Delicate. Exposed.
Neither looked away.
Then his shoulders eased. His expression softened.
“I know you can.”
He exhaled, quiet and heavy.
“I need to head to Hawthorne.”
His tone flattened.
Controlled again.
“There’s something I need to handle. Tonight.”
Arden’s brow furrowed. “It’s late. Can’t it wait?”
“It should.”
His lips curved faintly, but the smile never touched his eyes.
“They don’t wait, though. The moment they leave a room,the board changes. And if I don’t move, someone else pays for it.”
There was no anger in his voice.
