* * *
The meeting wraps up, and everyone stands to leave. But Dorian doesn’t move.
As I gather my things, I feel him approach—unhurried, deliberate.
“Della,” he says, his voice low, meant only for me. “We need to finish that conversation from the restaurant.”
I keep my face composed.
“No, we don’t, Mr. Marshall.”
His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something sparking beneath the calm—challenge or something else, I can’t tell.
“One meeting,” he says, his voice smooth but steady. “That’s all I’m asking. Please.”
I turn to leave, but his next words stop me cold.
“Or,” he adds, softer now, with dangerous calm, “I’ll show up here. Every day. All day. Until you agree.”
I draw a slow breath, feeling the tension coil tighter around my spine.
Then, somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Alexandra’s voice:
Monsters only have power in the dark. Do it for you. Not him.
And I know it’s time to shed some light on my monsters—not all, but at least some. Just enough to have some peace, again.
I glance at him, my expression cool, unreadable. But my decision is already made.
„One meeting,” I say, my voice sharp. “That’s it.”
I tilt my chin slightly, motioning toward the door—a clear dismissal.
Dorian only smiles—slow, faint, nothing like victory. Just something quieter. He steps back, his movement smooth, measured.
As he passes by, far too close, the air shifts—thick with something I can’t name.
I can feel the heat of him, every breath, every inch.
He leans in just enough that I catch the low, deliberate murmur.
“Good.”
His gaze drops—lingers for half a second too long on my lips before pulling away.
I don’t wait for more.
I turn and walk out, fast, my heels sharp against the floor.
But I feel it—the weight of his eyes, trailing me every step of the way.
Chapter 9
THE SWING AND THE STORM
Some loves wait, quiet and stubborn, under every scar
Dorian
