I feel like an impending disaster standing over her. Like the thing that could fracture her world with a single truth.
No.
That won’t happen.
I won’t let it.
She will be safe in my world. I’ll make sure of it. Whatever this costs me, whatever lines I have to cross, she will never feel the fear I carry.
I need her safe.
I need her here. With me. Every day.
The realization is sharp. Dangerous. Terrifying in its certainty.
She’s under my skin now, woven too deep to remove. Not that I’d want to. Not even if I could.
I leave the bedroom before I lose control and take her again.
She needs rest. Safety. Sleep untouched by the things circling us. I close the distance quietly, pulling the door almost shut, enough to hear her breathe, not enough to wake her.
Then I turn away.
The kitchen greets me with harsh light and unanswered questions. As I step inside, my phone lights up in my hand.
My father.
I answer without a greeting.
“Any updates?” he asks. Cold. Flat. Like we’re discussing inventory.
“Nothing yet,” I say. “Head of security’s been handled.”
A pause. Too long to be nothing.
“Not good enough,” he replies. “Something tells me you’re stalling.”
My jaw tightens. “What’s so important about it?” I ask, keeping my voice even. “Why the urgency?”
A faint, humourless sound slips down the line. “Nothing of importance toyou, boy.”
There it is again.Boy.
“I’ve got leads of my own,” he adds smoothly. Too smoothly. Like he’s already several steps ahead.
“Then use them,” I snap. “Why am I still on this call?”
Silence.
For a moment I think he’s hung up. Then,
“I want this sorted by tomorrow night.”
The words land heavy. Final.
I grind my teeth, already done with this conversation. Still, he doesn’t disconnect.
“And Khai,” he continues, voice lowering. “I hear you’ve been… hiding that pretty little thing of yours. You’ve always been careless when you think you’ve got the upper hand.”
