Whatever she was saying—
It was getting to him.
Deep.
“No—” he started, but stopped himself.
Listened again.
And then—
Something snapped.
The sound that tore out of him wasn’t quite human.
A strangled mix between a growl and something wounded.
Before I could react—
His hand closed tighter around the phone.
Too tight.
The device crunched audibly in his grip.
Plastic splintering.
Glass fracturing beneath pressure it was never meant to withstand.
He crushed it.
The screen shattered completely, spiderweb cracks bursting outward as the casing bent and broke in his palm.
Then he threw it.
Hard.
The ruined phone slammed into the far wall with a violent crack and exploded into fragments—shards of glass and plastic scattering across the polished floor like falling ice.
Silence followed.
Breathless. Charged.
He didn’t look at the mess.
Didn’t acknowledge it.
His chest rose and fell once—twice—before he turned back to me.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Elena.”
His voice was rough now.
Not loud. But stripped bare.
My chest tightened.
“What... what are you talking about? I’ve never lied to you.”
