I nodded. "Understood."
We filed out of the conference room. I made my way down the corridor to the door into Stefan’s room. Swiped my keycard. The lock clicked open.
He had his knees pulled to his chest, looking small and vulnerable and completely out of place in that stark room. Everything about him called to something primal in me. Something that wanted to protect and possess in equal measure.
I needed to make sure he understood that I wasn't going to hurt him. That this cage was temporary. That I'd seen him at that auction and something in me had shifted, something I couldn't name but couldn't ignore.
Stefan's head snapped up when I entered. For a moment we just stared at each other. His green eyes were wide, wary. His body tensed like he was preparing to fight or flee.
I closed the door behind me with a soft click.
The room felt smaller with both of us in it. More intimate. The air between us charged with tension and something darker.
"We need to talk," I said.
Stefan's jaw tightened. "I have nothing to say to you."
"Then listen."
I moved further into the room. He shifted on the bed, putting his feet on the floor, ready to bolt even though there was nowhere to go. Even terrified and trapped, he refused to cower. That defiance did something to me. Made the possessive need stronger.
"Your father sent you here to die," I said bluntly. "Or did you think Giuseppe actually believed you'd succeed?"
"Fuck you."
"You walked into my club wearing a disguise," I continued. "You tried to spy on us. You compromised our security. In my world, that has consequences."
"Then deliver them and stop playing games."
Brave or stupid.
I moved closer until I was standing over him. He had to tilt his head back to meet my eyes, refusing to be intimidated despite the fear I could see in the tension of his shoulders, the rapid pulse at his throat.
My thumb brushed over his cheekbone. "You walked into my territory. That makes you mine. And I protect what's mine."
"I'm not yours."
"Yes," I said. "You are."
We stared at each other. His pupils were dilated, breath coming faster. Fear, yes. But something else too. Something that mirrored the darkness coiling in my chest.
Want.
I stepped back before I did something we'd both regret. Or maybe something only he'd regret. I wasn't sure I was capable of regret anymore when it came to Stefan Romano.
"Get some rest," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "We'll talk later about what happens next."
I left before he could respond. Before I could give in to the urge to stay, to push him back on that bed and find out exactly how he'd sound when he stopped fighting.
Outside the room, I leaned against the wall and dragged in a breath.
This was dangerous. Keeping Stefan was already the stupidest decision I'd made in years. Wanting him made it catastrophic.
But I couldn't let him go.
Wouldn't let him go.
He was mine now. And I'd burn down anyone who tried to take him from me.
