Her breathing evens out slowly, little shuddering exhales against my chest. She’s drained. Hollow. And for once, she isn’t fighting me.
Anthony pulls away from the curb, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, waiting for instruction.
“Her place?” he asks.
I look out the side window at her family home. It’s small. Old looking, yet it gives off a homely feel, oozing with love. But apparently not tonight. Because she’s in a state, and instead of going in there, she called me.
My voice is quiet but final. “Penthouse.”
Anthony arches a brow but doesn’t argue, as he takes the next left and heads for my place.
Leoni shifts against me, making a soft sound, like she’s drifting off. Good. She needs to rest. Her fingers curl into my shirt like she’s trying to hold herself on this side of reality. I wrap an arm around her waist and bury my nose in her hair, inhaling. I can feel Anthony watching me again. “What?” I mutter.
He keeps his gaze forward. “Nothin’.” He knows better than to say what he’s thinking.
The city lights pass in streaks, blurry against the windows. Her head rises and falls with each breath. She looks young like this. Small. Breakable.
And I hate that.
When we reach the underground car park, Anthony gets out and comes around to hold the door.“Want me to carry her?” he asks.
“No,” I say immediately, it’s too sharp. He lifts his brow again but steps back.
I adjust her in my arms and she barely stirs, murmuring something that sounds like my name but is too soft to catch.
The private elevator takes us straight to my floor.
The doors slide open and the apartment is dark except for the city’s glow through the glass.
I carry her to the bedroom and lower her onto the bed gently, as though any loud movement might shatter her. She curls on her side instinctively, one hand still clenched in my shirt. I try to ease it free, but she doesn’t let go. And something in my chest pulls tight.
“You’re okay,” I hear myself say, my voice sounding rough with emotion. “You’re safe here.”
She doesn’t wake, but her grip loosens enough for me to free myself.
I sit on the edge of the bed for a moment, breathing slow, trying to unclench my jaw. Trying to ignore the part of me that wants to lay down beside her and hold her together.
Anthony’s voice crackles through the intercom at the front door. “Everything good?”
I step back, forcing distance. “Yeah.”
“You want me to stay on watch?”
My eyes flick to the window. The view of the city. The network my father controls. The danger creeping closer.
“Yes,” I say. “Stay downstairs. No one in. No one near. I’ll call if I need anything.”
“Got it.”
“And Anthony…”
“Yes, Boss?”
“No one can know she’s here, especially not my family.”
“Understood.”
The intercom clicks off.
