“Are we at the penthouse?” she demanded.
“Yes.”
She didn’t move, and I stepped out first, came around to her side, and opened the door, but she remained seated.
“Do not make me carry you,” I said quietly.
Her eyes flashed dangerously. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I leaned in slightly.
“Try me.”
Her jaw set, she stepped out on her own.
“Good choice.”
“Stop talking to me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you own the situation.”
“I do.”
Her hand flew up in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable.”
I took her wrist, not roughly, but firmly, and guided her toward the entrance.
She struggled once, instinctively.
“Elle,” I warned.
“What?”
“If you scream right now, I will still get you inside. The difference will be how gentle I am about it.”
Her breath caught as she searched my face for cruelty, but didn’t find it. Despite that, she still found resolve.
“You’re not hurting me,” she said finally.
“No.”
“You’re not turning me over to someone.”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Keeping you ahead of a war you don’t even know is starting.”
The building door opened with a keycard. She had been here before, and she knew exactly how everything worked. Inside, the lights flicked on automatically, revealing an expansive, empty interior, industrial but secured. Surveillance monitors along one wall and reinforced glass on the other. I took her inside the private elevator. This was not my home, but a secondary location I used when I wanted to be away from home. She had noticed that too the last time I had brought her here. She turned to face me as we reached the top.
Her eyes weren’t scared but furious instead.
“You have five seconds,” she said quietly. “Then I start calling my brothers.”
I stepped closer. Close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact.
