“Why?”
He doesn’t respond.
I stand from the bed, my legs a little weak.
“I don’t want to be involved in any of this. I want to go home. I have to work in the morning. Wait…what time is it? And where’s my phone?”
“You can’t leave.”
His words hit me like a slap. I laugh, sharp and incredulous. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Ellie. You can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because those who came after you are still out there.”
“I don’t care. I’m leaving. You fix it. This isn’t my life.”
“I’ll fix it. I’mtryingto fix it. That’s why you can’t leave.” His voice is soft—but the authority behind it grates my nerves.
“You have no right to keep me here,” I snap, anger rising.
He tilts his head, blue eyes cold and unreadable. “The moment those men grabbed you, every rival faction knew you were leverage.”
I laugh bitterly, disbelief curling through me. “You stalked me, and now I’m collateral damage?”
“Stalking isn’t the crime here,” he says, almost casually, his gaze sharp. “You…are very interesting to watch.”
“Hello?” I snap. “Stalkingisa crime.”
He doesn’t apologize. Not a word.
Instead, he steps closer.
“I never touched you,” he says, low and steady. “Never interfered in your life.”
“But you watched me.”
“Yes. From afar.”
I take a careful step back, but he closes the distance with unnerving ease.
He stops directly in front of me.
And up close, the blue in his eyes is almost unbearable—sharp, piercing, like he can read every secret thought in my head.
The air between us thickens.
I shove him. He catches my wrists easily. My pulse spikes. Heat rushes through me. The physical struggle is…charged. Dangerous.
I’m furious. He’s unnervingly controlled.
My breath comes uneven, ragged.
I feel the tiniest slip in his composure—a flicker. Control starting to crack.
“Behave yourself,” he whispers.
