But when our eyes met on that stage—when she looked at me with that mixture of terror and defiance—something in my chest shifted.
Something I didn't know was missing suddenly felt found.
I wanted her.
Not just her body. Not just her presence.
Her.
All of her. The fear and the fight.
The way she holds herself like she's trying to disappear.
The way her eyes flash when she's angry.
The intelligence I can see even when she's trying to hide it.
I wanted to possess her completely.
And now that I have her?
I have no fucking idea what to do.
She won't talk to me.
Won't look at me unless forced.
Flinches every time I come within three feet of her.
And I'm running out of patience.
My phone buzzes.
A text from Callum:
Need to talk. Available?
I dial his number.
He answers on the first ring. "Sir."
"What is it?"
"We need to discuss the girl."
"Eden," I correct sharply.
A pause. "Eden," he says carefully. "I'm concerned about your approach."
"My approach."
"You're keeping her locked up. Even with the unlocked door, she's still a prisoner. She knows it. You know it. And from what I've observed, she's not adjusting well."
"She's been here four days, Callum."
"Four days during which she's barely eaten. Barely slept, from what the night security reports tell me. She jumps at every sound. She's terrified."
"She was terrified when I bought her."
