Kate woke up slowly.
Not because she wanted to—but because her body forced her to.
Pain came first.
A dull, throbbing ache behind her eyes. Then her wrists. Then her head, heavy and disoriented, like the world had been shaken and never quite settled again.
She inhaled sharply.
Wrong move.
The air smelled unfamiliar—clean, but not comforting. Not home.
Her eyes snapped open.
Dark ceiling. Low lighting. A room she didn't recognize.
Panic hit instantly.
She jerked upright, breath catching as everything came rushing back—the running, the street, the bakery—
Him.
Her pulse spiked.
Her gaze dropped to her wrists.
Not tied.
But that didn't make her feel any safer.
Kate slid off the bed too quickly, her legs wobbling beneath her as she stumbled toward the door. Her hand barely touched the handle before it opened.
She froze.
He stood there.
Closer than she ever wanted him to be again.
The same man. Same broad shoulders. Same black shirt stretched over muscle like it had been sewn onto him. But up close… he was worse. Sharper. More real. Dark eyes locked onto hers with a kind of focus that made her stomach twist.
Not wild.
Not frantic.
Controlled.
Like he already knew how this was going to go.
Kate's voice came out rough. "Let me go."
No hesitation.
No fear in her tone this time—just anger.
His gaze flicked over her quickly, assessing. Checking.
Then back to her face.
"You're awake sooner than I expected."
His voice was low. Calm.
Like they were having a normal conversation.
That made it worse.
"I said let me go," she snapped, louder now, her hand tightening around the doorframe. "You took the wrong person."
A pause.
Something shifted in his expression—so quick she almost missed it.
"I know."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Kate blinked. "…What?"
"I know," he repeated, stepping into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that echoed far too loudly. "You're not who I was looking for."
Her heart skipped.
Then pounded even faster.
"Then why am I still here?" she demanded.
Silence stretched between them.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he studied her again—like he was trying to solve something. Like she was a problem he hadn't planned for.
And suddenly, Kate didn't like the way he was looking at her at all.
"Because," he said finally, voice quieter now, "letting you go… isn't an option."
A chill ran down her spine.
"That doesn't make any sense," she shot back. "You said it yourself—I'm not who you wanted. So fix your mistake."
"If it were that simple," he said, almost to himself, "you wouldn't still be here."
Kate took a step back.
"Then explain it to me."
His jaw tightened slightly.
For the first time, something like frustration slipped through that controlled exterior.
"You were seen with me."
Her stomach dropped.
"And?" she pushed.
"And the people I took you from?" His eyes darkened. "They don't ask questions. They don't wait for explanations."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Colder.
"They think you're connected now," he continued. "To me."
Kate shook her head. "I'm not—"
"I know that," he cut in.
Another step closer.
Too close.
"But they don't."
Her breath caught.
A heavy silence fell between them.
The kind that changes everything.
Kate swallowed. "So what… that's it? I just stay here? With you?"
His gaze didn't waver.
"For now."
The words felt like a lock clicking into place.
Kate's pulse roared in her ears again—but this time, something else slipped in beneath the fear.
Something sharper.
Something stubborn.
She straightened slightly, lifting her chin.
"Then you better start talking," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos inside her. "Because if I'm stuck here, I'm not staying in the dark."
For a moment, he just looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And something unreadable passed through his eyes.
"…You're not what I expected," he said.
Kate let out a short, humorless breath. "Yeah? Funny. I was just thinking the same thing."
A beat.
Then—unexpectedly—the corner of his mouth shifted.
Not quite a smile.
But close enough to unsettle her more than anything else had.
"Get dressed," he said, nodding toward the chair in the corner. "You'll want to be ready."
"For what?"
His expression hardened again, whatever softness had been there disappearing completely.
"For what happens next."