Page 45 of Unleashed


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The collar at my throat no longer felt like a symbol of ownership.It felt like intent.

I didn’t go to him.

He didn’t come to me.

We remained where we were—separate, aligned, aware.

And in that space between us, something recalibrated.

It wasn’t forgiveness or surrender.

It was respect.

And I knew—without needing him to say a word—that whatever came next...would be different.










Chapter 7

The evening closedwith applause echoing off the gilded walls of the ballroom, the final tally announced to a chorus of cheers.The charity ball was a roaring success.A small fortune had been raised, the kind of money that could change lives.

But as I stood beside Creed, clapping politely, I couldn’t focus on the celebration.My thoughts knotted like tangled wires, unspoken tension a live current humming beneath my skin.There were small moments where I thought—hoped—I’d seen a crack in his armor.

“Time to go,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the small of my back.

The touch was brief.Intentional.Enough to remind me he was still there, and that he was choosing restraint.

The Bentley was waiting at the curb, sleek and polished under the streetlights.A driver held the door open, and Creed gestured for me to enter first.I slid onto the smooth leather seat, the chill of it seeping through my dress as he followed, settling in beside me.

He shut the door himself, the sound final, sealing us into a thick space with unspoken tension.His posture was relaxed, but every inch of him screamed restraint.The city blurred past in ribbons of gold, light cutting along the sharp planes of his jaw.

“We raised a lot of money tonight,” he finally said, his tone clinical, like the evening was a spreadsheet, not a battlefield.

“That’s good,” I said, forcing calm into my voice.“But from the announcement, it sounded like you were the largest benefactor.”

His jaw ticked, a fracture in the mask, but he said nothing.He just stared out the window.

The rest of the ride passed in silence.Not empty silence.Charged.Watchful.Tension coiled low in my stomach like a live wire.