He turned to her, his hand returning to my waist—deliberate rather than possessive, a placement that drew a clear line.
“Veronica.”His tone was even.“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
“Oh, you know me.”She laughed lightly, resting a perfectly manicured hand on his arm.“Always full of surprises.”
Then her eyes landed on me.The warmth in her smile flickered, replaced with something sharper, assessing, calculating.
“And you are?”
I opened my mouth, but Creed beat me to it.
“Peyton is here with me.”His voice was steady, firm.
With me.
The words settled like a shield around me, not comfort, but clarity.
Veronica’s lips curved, her amusement thin.“Well, Peyton,” she said smoothly, her eyes dragging over me like a silent inventory.“You’re certainly...unexpected.”
The tension in the air thickened.
Creed didn’t flinch.If anything, his posture shifted, subtle, territorial, and final.
“If you’ll excuse us,” he said coolly, “we were just leaving the floor.”
Veronica lingered a beat too long, her gaze flicking between us before she stepped aside.
I exhaled slowly.
“Friend of yours?”I asked as Creed guided me away.
“You can say that.”
We reached a quieter corner.I stopped walking.
“That’s not how this is going to work,” I said calmly, without accusation or emotion.
His grip tightened just enough to anchor me.He turned.“Don’t let her get in your head.”
“I didn’t,” I said.“I’m setting expectations.”
His eyes sharpened.
“I agreed to serve you,” I continued evenly.“Not to be managed in public while another woman tests boundaries.”
The silence that followed was dense, measuring.
“You’re jealous,” he said finally.
“I’m discerning,” I corrected.“There’s a difference.”
That earned me a flicker of interest.
“I don’t deserve your trust yet,” I went on, steady.“But I won’t compete for attention.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
“The only woman I want,” he said quietly, “is the one standing in front of me.”
