She doesn’t say another word for the rest of the meal.
In the car, Violet is silent. Not calm—coiled. The kind of still that hums with contained fury. She stares out the window, jaw set, city lights streaking across the glass.
“You were brilliant tonight,” I say, breaking the quiet.
She turns on me instantly. “You were cruel.” The word snaps, sharp as glass.
“You overstepped,” I reply, meeting her glare head-on.
“I couldn’t just sit there and watch you destroy them.” Her voice wavers—not with fear, but with heat. Conviction. “Not when I know what they’ve built. Not when I know what it costs to get science like that off the ground.”
I let the car roll forward a few more seconds before I move. Then I place my hand on her thigh again. This time I don’t push. Don’t test. I just let it rest there—heavy, deliberate.
“You held the room,” I say quietly. “You charmed them. You spoke their fears before they could voice them. You held yourself together while I nearly made you fall apart.” I glance at her. “And they never saw a crack.”
She looks away, breath tight, like she’s bracing for something she doesn’t want to hear.
“You played the part so well, Violet,” I continue. “I almost believed you belonged to me.”
The car slows at a red light. Her breath stutters, just once.
“You’re insufferable,” she mutters.
I don’t smile. “You’re perfect.”
The penthouse doors barely finish opening before she storms inside, heels clicking hard against the marble. Each step is an accusation.
I follow at an unhurried pace, shutting the door behind us.
“You can’t keep doing that,” she snaps, spinning around. “Treating me like I’m some kind of toy you get to wind up and put away.”
“You’re not a toy.” My voice drops, the edge unmistakable. “You’re mine.”
Her eyes flash. “I chose to walk in with you. That doesn’t mean I belong to you.”
I take a step closer. She doesn’t retreat.
“You don’t get to pretend you didn’t feel it,” I say. “Don’t get to lie to yourself about what it meant—to sit there while I touched you, while men who run companies and governments looked right past us.”
Her breathing is shallow now. Controlled, but fast.
“Tell me you didn’t imagine it happening again,” I whisper. “Tell me you didn’t like knowing I could do that to you in a room full of powerful men—and no one could stop me.”
She shoves me, hard. I catch her wrists easily, pull her in until there’s no space left to argue with.
“Tell me,” I press, low and relentless, “you didn’t feel like the most wanted woman in the room.”
Her pulse hammers beneath my fingers. I feel it. Feel her fighting herself more than she’s fighting me.
She swallows. Her voice comes out barely more than a breath. “Don’t make me fall for you, Asher.”
Chapter 56
The Illusion of Choice
Violet
His fingers tighten around my wrists—not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me he can.
