“I know.” My voice dropped lower. “Stay. Let me help you. Fuck all these people. Zay and I got you.”
Her breathing shook. “You don’t even like me, and I for sure don’t like you.”
I smirked faintly. “I liked you enough in Vegas, and you liked me too.”
Her eyes flashed.
For a second, the fight in her softened.
Then it came back.
“You don’t get to decide my life.”
“I already know that. But I’m not letting you drown either.”
She looked at me for a long time.
Finally, she sat back down. “Let’s get this meeting over with,” she demanded.
The lawyers resumed.
I signed first.
Ink drying like a sentence.
Yuna stared at the paper forever before signing, sharp and angry.
It was done.
Outside, everything exploded.
She fought the moment we stepped toward the car.
“No. I’m not going with him! Let me go!”
She twisted, screamed, panic flooding her body.
Security moved in, but I lifted a hand.
“Nobody touch her,” I said, and then looked at Yuna.
She backed away, shaking.
“You’re putting me in a cage!” she cried out.
“No,” I said. “I’m keeping you alive.”
She started crying louder, words turning into frantic broken French and English mixed together.
I stepped closer.
“You’re not being locked away. I got doctors waiting. Not punishment.”
She fought again when we guided her toward the car, feet dragging, breath breaking apart like her mind was splitting open.
I didn’t flinch.
Didn’t soften my grip when I finally caught her wrists.
