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“Sir?”
I frown, shaking my head clear as I turn back to Liam.
“She needs money for something. A debt, maybe.”
He nods. “I’ll find out, whatever it is.”
“Thank you.”
When he’s gone, I find myself back in front of Ella’s bedroom door, across the hall from mine. I frown, opening it quietly.
She’s asleep again.
Silently, I move across the room to sit on the edge of her bed. My eyes fall to her sleeping face, and my brow furrows.
She looks like she’s fighting. She’s perfectly still. But her face flinches, twisted by her dreams. Her brow creases, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Her teeth grit, lips snarling. Eyes squeezed so tightly shut. Pain etched across her face.
My hand lands on hers.
Her face stills, and then melts back to something closer to neutral.
I never meant for this to get to this place. When she ran from my offer that day, three years ago, I let her go, because it was necessary. When she slid back into my life like a blade to the ribs again, it sparked something in me—a need for vengeance, maybe. Or to prove something, maybe. To her. To Thomas. To myself, perhaps.
Except that narrative has changed. She’s not a point to prove anymore. Not an objective, or a means to an end. She’s not a tool to use.
She’s just… mine.
And Iwillprotect what’s mine.
