Each word carved from ice and fury.
“What?”
The word left me on instinct.
Confusion cutting through the shock.
“Answer me.”
His grip tightened just slightly.
Not enough to choke. Enough to remind me he could.
“Did you hit her? Push her?”
His thumb shifted, pressing lightly against the pulse at my throat.
“She passed out—bleeding between her legs—and the last thing she said before she went under was your name.”
For a moment—my mind stalled.
“You’re squeezing too hard... I can’t breathe,” I said, my voice shaking.
For a moment, the anger in his face softened—just enough for his grip to ease. A fraction.
But he didn’t let go.
His hand stayed on my throat—firm, warm, unyielding.
His thumb pressed against my pulse point, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath his skin.
“I gave you three red lines,” he said, voice low and deadly, “and you just crossed one.”
He leaned closer, eyes burning into mine.
“You hurt Violet... because you think her baby is mine, isn’t that it?”
“I did not touch her!”
The words snapped out of me, cutting through the tension in the room.
My breath hitched slightly with the force of it, close enough that it stirred the dark strands of his hair across his forehead.
For a fraction of a second—he faltered.
“Violet is trying to set me up,” I continued, my voice steady now, even with his hand still locked around my throat.
Not pleading.
“I didn’t lay a finger on her.”
A pause.
“Yes, she came into my room and tried to get a reaction. I didn’t give her one. If she got hurt, that’s not on me. The cameras show everything—you can check for yourself.”
His eyes searched mine.
Merciless.
