The automatic glass doors open with a soft whoosh, spilling us into the lobby that screams luxury—polished marble floors, and chandeliers dripping with crystals. The ceiling is so high it seems to disappear the more you look up. Brielle doesn’t spare me a single glance, her focus on the decor as if she’s never seen anything like it before.
I approach the front desk, my shoes clicking against the marble flooring. Brielle follows, but keeps her distance.
“Good evening, sir,” the woman behind the desk greets, her trained smile never falters. Her gaze flickers to me, slightly widening as if recognizing me, and I stifle a sigh.
Not now.
“Good evening,” I reply, keeping my tone as measured as possible. She reaches for the keys, which works out for me because I have no patience to deal with this right now.
“Everything has been prepared. Mr.—” I cut her off before she yells out my name. I don’t want anyone to know I’m in town yet, and that’ll go right out the window if this woman keeps yelling. Her face blushes as she pushes the penthouse key across the counter toward me.
“Thanks.” I don’t miss the way she glanced at where Brielle is standing as if trying to piece together the dynamic between us. But of course, Brielle doesn’t make it easy. She stands a few feet away, examining a fake plant as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. I shake my head, stepping closer to her.
“Are you done examining the fake Ficus, or would you like my cousin’s number so you can tell him about how he should upgrade?” I ask, pocketing the key for now and waiting. She side-eyes me, but I don’t miss the small smirk before she scoffs.
“Let’s go,” she says, some of her attitude disappearing more by the second. By the time we’re in the elevator, her shoulders slump, and I can see some of the tension leave her body, and even if it’s just a little, it’s enough for now.
25
BRIELLE
I swearI’ve gone through every emotion one fucking person can experience in the span of twenty-four hours. What the hell is wrong with me? The way Emris keeps trying to getanykind of reaction out of me is starting to get on my last nerve.
I’m exhausted. Especially with my feelings. I find myself softening, wanting to laugh when he makes a joke, wanting to ask him more about his family.
But right now, I want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week. Between crashing the car, Emris tying me to the bed, and the drive here, my body and mind are done, ready to shut down and reset. I don’t want to think or deal with anything, and I still have no clue how long I’ve been here. Time has lost all meaning since Emris took me, every day blurring in with the next.
“What’s the date?” I turn to look at Emris on the other side of the elevator. He glances down at his phone, then back at me, one brow lifting.
“It’s the twenty-fourth,” he says, confusion swimming in his eyes. “Why do you ask?” He slips his phone back in his pocket before giving me his attention.
“Oh, just wondering how long I’ve been held captive for.” I give him a beaming smile before rolling my eyes and going backto ignoring him when he lets a smirk cover his face. Thankfully, there’s no more time for any awkwardness since we reach the floor we are staying on.
I follow behind Emris as he unlocks the door, and my jaw drops.Wow. This place is unbelievable.
“There are two rooms here. That one is Carson’s,”—he points to the room on the left side of the penthouse—“that’ll be ours.”
“Ours? What do you meanours?”
“Well, it’s that or you sleep with Carson, and we both know that’s not going to happen.” He walks over toward the room in question, my bag in hand.
“And what if I prefer that to sleeping anywhere near you?” As soon as those words leave my mouth, I regret saying them out loud. Emris pauses on his way to the room and turns, the smirk he was wearing before, gone, replaced with anger.
He drops the bag and storms over to where I’m still standing, his hand instantly finding my throat. The more pressure he applies, the more steps I take until my back hits the wall and my hands reach up to grip his arm.
“You better watch what the fuck comes out of that mouth of yours, Brielle, because I won’t hesitate to kill him so he’s no longer someone you even think of.” His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt me, but only to warn me.
“Emris.” I manage to get out, and the sound of my voice snaps him back. He loosens his grip, his thumb moving back and forth on my skin, but he doesn’t let go.
“Carson might be like a brother to me, but if you even so much as go near him, I’ll blister your ass raw until there’s blood leaking down those perfect globes. Do you understand me, Brielle?” His chest rises and falls hard, each breath more sharp and uneven than the next. I know I shouldn’t push him right now. Everything in me is screaming that this is the edge, and Ican’t stop myself, not when his threats sound less like warnings and more like promises.
The fear is gone and burned away by something reckless as I meet his gaze. His eyes lock onto mine like he’s trying to peel me apart and see what’s buried underneath. Like he wants inside my head, and wants me to say every thought I don’t dare say out loud. But I won’t.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, his hand is gone.
The loss of pressure on my throat leaves me unsteady, my back still pressed against the wall as he closes any space left between us. Emris’s mouth crashes to mine, stealing what little breath I have left, and I reach out, my fingers gripping his jacket, his arms, anything I can get my hands on.
When he’s like this, I can’t help but want so much more from him.
