The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the glass walls, glittering like fireflies caught in a jar. Elena hugged her arms around herself, the silence of the penthouse pressing heavier than the marble floors beneath her feet.
She felt out of place. Every polished surface reminded her that she didn't belong here, not in Alexander King's fortress in the sky. She needed air, her own bed, the familiar chaos of her diner, Sophie's voice without the weight of lies hanging between them.
She cleared her throat, breaking the quiet. "I should go."
Alexander, who had been nursing a glass of whiskey by the window, turned slowly. His gaze sharpened, not in anger, but in a kind of stillness that made her breath hitch.
"Go?" he repeated softly, as though the word itself was foreign.
"Yes." She forced her voice steady. "It's late. I have work tomorrow. And Sophie… she'll worry if I don't check in."
Alexander swirled the amber liquid in his glass, studying it like it held answers. "Work. Worry. You speak as though those things will keep you safe."
"They will keep me normal," Elena snapped, more defensive than she meant. "I don't want to be locked up here while you play whatever game this is."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He set the glass down on the counter with deliberate calm and stepped closer.
"This isn't a game, Elena."
His voice carried a weight that sank into her skin. She turned away, unwilling to let him see the tremor that passed through her.
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered. "I didn't ask to be dragged into your world."
Alexander moved closer still, stopping just a breath away. His presence was overwhelming, the clean, sharp scent of him, the heat radiating off his body, the quiet authority he wore like armor.
"You didn't," he admitted. "But you are here now. And whether you like it or not, that means I am responsible for what happens to you."
Elena's chest tightened. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him she didn't need his protection, that she wasn't some fragile glass doll he could tuck away on a shelf. But the truth was more complicated. She had seen the way his eyes darkened when the message came through earlier. He was hiding something, something that made her stomach twist with both dread and curiosity.
Her resolve hardened. She stepped back, putting distance between them. "I want to go home."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Alexander exhaled, slow and controlled, like a man surrendering a battle he hadn't meant to fight.
"Very well," he said at last, though the words sounded like stones dragged across concrete. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I'll have Daniel take you."
The name meant nothing to Elena, but she knew it must be his driver.
She expected him to argue harder, to demand she stay but instead, the quiet acceptance unnerved her more.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Alexander's eyes flicked to hers, unreadable. "Don't thank me. If anything happens while you're away, I'll be damned."
The words hung heavy between them, making her pulse quicken.
Minutes later, they stood in the private elevator. The air was thick, filled with all the things unsaid. Alexander didn't touch her, didn't crowd her, but his presence was everywhere and it seemed like an invisible thread pulling her attention to him.
As the doors slid open to the lobby, he finally spoke. "Your friend Sophie, she doesn't know what you're involved in, does she?"
Elena bristled. " I told her about you when we met. She's my friend afterall."
"Be careful," he said simply, stepping out beside her.
Elena opened her mouth, then closed it. She hated how easily he saw through her, how every word he spoke made her question herself.
They walked in silence to the waiting car, sleek and black under the glow of the building's lights. Daniel, a broad-shouldered man with sharp eyes, held the door open. Elena slid inside, but Alexander lingered by the frame, his hand resting on the roof as he leaned slightly toward her.
His voice dropped low, meant only for her. "Elena, you may walk away tonight. But don't fool yourself into thinking distance will protect you. When the storm comes, it won't care where you sleep."
Her breath caught. She wanted to demand answers, to shake him until he spilled every secret he carried. But the words stuck in her throat.
Instead, she met his gaze, steady and unflinching. "Then maybe you should stop dragging me into your storm."
For the first time, his composure faltered just barely. His lips curved, not into a smile, but something darker. Something that told her he wasn't used to being challenged.
He closed the door gently, leaving her alone in the leather-scented quiet of the car.
As Daniel pulled away from the curb, Elena's chest tightened with conflicting emotions. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the window, staring at the city as it blurred by.
Alexander King was a man she should stay far away from.
So why did every nerve in her body scream that she'd just left the only place she was meant to be?