11
Kia
His bitten-out words are like a crack of thunder in the silence of the penthouse. They’re not loud, and he doesn’t yell. They’re just rough. Edged with an emotion I can’t quite name. Like he’s grinding them out between clenched teeth.
For a second, I gape, my back inches away from the elevator doors. There’s tension in his shoulders, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are dark in a way that doesn’t match the quiet man who read to his daughter on the couch before dinner.
Instead, it feels like I’m being scolded by a parent. And it’s enough to make me bristle.
“I—” With a swallow, I force a small, stiff smile. “Right. Okay. Maybe I should just go. I didn’t mean to?—”
I take a hesitant step in retreat, reaching blindly for the elevator button. I didn’t come here to be treated like a wayward child. What I need right now is a second to get my emotions under control before I say something I can’t take back to the man who’s now my employer.
I don’t get far before his hand snakes out, catching me just above the elbow. The contact is quick, and my pulse spikes as a sizzle of awareness slides through me. A second later, his eyes widen and his fingers loosen. He doesn’t pull me closer or attempt to block my exit. Instead, he pivots us toward the penthouse before dropping my arm and stepping back, giving me space to find my bearings.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Don’t leave.”
The elevator doors slide shut behind me with a soft hiss, sealing off the exit as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. For a second, neither of us moves, then he takes another half-step back.
“I didn’t mean to grab you.” With an exhale, his shoulders lower a fraction. “I just don’t like the idea of you wandering around alone at night. If you still want to leave, let me call a car to take you back to Oliver’s. Or, hell, I’ll pay for a hotel room, if you’d prefer that instead.”
I look up at him and find that the hard line of his mouth has softened. The regret filling his eyes is threaded with concern, not authority, and the tension within me gradually eases.
“It’s perfectly safe,” I say lightly, because joking is easier than admitting how shaky I am. “I only witnessed three murders, tops.”
Laiken’s brows furrow as his frown deepens. The man is annoyingly handsome even when he’s scowling. “That’s not funny.”
A tiny smile tugs at my lips. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s kind of funny.”
One corner of his mouth reluctantly twitches, as if he’s fighting a smile and losing the battle. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but I’m ridiculously pleased with myself for being able to tease it out of him. Laiken Lennox doesn’t strike me as a man who smiles often. And that’s unfortunate.
“Would you like something to drink?” Discomfort radiates from him as he shifts. “Water? Or maybe a glass of wine?” His eyes narrow. “You’re old enough to drink alcohol, right?”
I blink at the question as my fingers twitch toward my stomach on instinct. “Um, yeah, but no wine for me.” I snatch my hand back before it can land there. “Water’s fine. Thanks.”
His gaze flicks to my hand and then up to my face like he noticed the movement. It’s a relief when he doesn’t comment and just nods once.
“Water it is.”
Without another word, he turns toward the kitchen.
I force myself to stay put. My arm still tingles where he touched it as my brain somersaults with the knowledge that he was concerned enough about my safety to send a car to pick me up. And then there’s the fact he stayed on the phone until I was inside the vehicle.
That he was actually worried.
I move deeper into the penthouse. The living room is dimly lit, with only a few lamps glowing, as the city twinkles beyond the windows. It’s beautiful in a way that steals the air from my lungs. Once near the glass, I press my fingertips against the cool surface and watch Chicago blink back at me. Headlights stream along the streets below as the surrounding skyscrapers glitter. Beyond them, the lake stretches dark and endless.
For one dangerous second, I let myself imagine this could be mine.
Mornings filled with cartoon theme songs drifting down the hallway. Elody’s shoes by the door next to mine. The familiar comfort of dinner scents lingering in the air at the end of a long day. And a quiet man making sure I return home. The fantasy cocoons me in safety right before guilt crashes in, because this isn’t mine.
It will never be mine.
The truth is, if Laiken knew about the baby, this fragile sense of safety would vanish in an instant. And the offer that feels like a lifeline would disappear just as quickly with it, leaving me right back where I started.
I can’t afford for that to happen.
Footsteps whisper across the floor behind me, followed by the brush of a cold bottle against my fingers.
