Silence stretches between us. I tilt my head to the side, studying him like an insect under a microscope.
"No,” I replay after a long pause.
"Something else. Something much worse."
He snorts, still believing he’s the one in control of this situation.
"Yeah? What, her bodyguard?"
My gaze hardens. He doesn’t realize the seconds of his life are already being counted down.
"She doesn't need a fucking bodyguard,” I state quietly, closing the distance with predatory certainty.
“She just needs someone to take out the trash.”
My eyes return to him slowly, and I’m already mapping out all the ways I’m going to make this man suffer.
"Look man," he says, pointing a finger at me.
"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but whatever's going between me and Mali—"
The word hits me like a physical strike. It echoes inside my skull, sharp and jagged. Mali. Again.
"Don't fucking call her that,” I state. My tone isn’t a murmur anymore. It’s a threat.
"The fuck is your problem?"
I take another step. Now we’re close enough that he can see my eyes through the net attached to my mask. I want him to see the abyss before he falls into it.
Then he laughs. An actual, genuine laugh.
"Oh my god," he says, shaking his head.
"You are serious."
He leans closer, invading my personal space on purpose. He smells like stale alcohol and unearned confidence. Up close, the stench of him is offensive.
"You people from the hospital are fucking weird," he mutters, his voice dropping.
"First she acts like she's scared of me, now some masked psycho shows up playing knight in shining armor?"
My lips curve faintly. Knight. That's new.
He points a finger toward the door where she disappeared.
"She's my ex. Which means whatever conversation we were having is none of your business."
Then he adds, smugly.
"And trust me, if she really didn't want to be alone with me, she wouldn't have walked in here."
A dark growl escapes my lips. He believes that. That's the fascinating part. Men like him always do. They confuse proximity with permission. My voice stays calm even through the urge of strangling him right here.
"You've been watching her all night."
Not a question. A statement.
His reaction is immediate.
