"Yes."
She turns back to the window, and I watch the emotions play across her reflection in the glass. Resignation. A flicker of something that might be relief. No fight. No argument.
"What about my lease?" she asks quietly.
"Handled. Your landlord was very understanding when I offered to buy out your contract." I lean back in my seat, studying her. "Everything you need will be waiting for you. I've had your favorite things brought over—your books, your grandmother's quilt, the photos from your desk. I will leave some last things that you may want to sort through yourself."
Her jaw tightens slightly, and I see her hands fist in her lap. But she doesn't protest. She's learning that resistance is pointless. Learning to trust that I know what's best.
"Okay," she whispers.
Two letters. One word. Complete surrender.
I reach across the small table between us and take her hand. Her fingers are cold, and I warm them between my palms, stroking my thumb across her knuckles.
"You're safe with me, Eve," I murmur. "That's all that matters."
She nods, still looking out the window, and doesn't pull her hand away.
***
The moment I return to the city, restless energy floods through me. Eve is being settled into the penthouse by Maria and the staff, and I need to burn off this anticipation before I do something rash.
My home gym becomes a battlefield.
I attack the heavy bag with brutal efficiency, each strike a manifestation of the power coiling through my muscles. Left hook. Right cross. The chain rattles with the force of my hits.
She's in my home. Permanently. The thought sends electricity singing through my veins.
Sweat drips down my spine as I push harder, faster. The bag swings wildly, and I imagine every threat I've eliminated, every obstacle I've destroyed to get to this moment. Bryce's smug face. Fred Greyhound's arrogance. Every man who ever looked at her and thought they had a right.
Mine. She's mine.
I shift to weights, loading the bar until my muscles scream. The burn feels good. Grounding. Each rep is acountdown to the moment I can walk into my bedroom and find her there, in my space, surrounded by my scent.
When I finally stop, my body is thrumming with controlled violence and raw possession. I stand in front of the mirror, chest heaving, and see the truth reflected back at me.
I'm a man who's finally claimed his kingdom. And every inch of my fortress is designed to keep my queen exactly where she belongs.
***
Lucy Page is waiting in the conference room when I arrive at Sinclair Designs headquarters. She stands the moment I enter, her face flushed with anger and fear.
"Where is she?" Lucy demands. "Where's Eve? She's not answering my calls—"
"Sit down, Miss Page." I don't raise my voice. I don't need to.
She remains standing, defiant. "I want to see Eve. Now."
I move to the head of the table, buttoning my suit jacket with deliberate calm. "That won't be possible. Eve's communication protocols have changed."
"Communication protocols?" Lucy's voice rises. "She's not a military installation, she's a person! My best friend!"
"A person who requires protection," I correct smoothly. "From this point forward, if you wish to contact Eve, you'll submit a request through my assistant. I'll determine if and when contact is appropriate."
Lucy stares at me in disbelief. "You can't be serious."
"I'm always serious when it comes to Eve's safety." I meet her gaze with cold certainty. "You've been feeding her doubts. Encouraging her to question decisions that are in her best interest. That ends now."
