“I’m not staying here.”

The words left Raven’s mouth like a spark catching dry kindling. She stood in the middle of Jaxon’s penthouse, arms folded, jaw set.

“Yes, you are,” Jaxon said without hesitation, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the couch. His tone was final, the kind of final that didn’t leave room for negotiation except with Raven, it always did.

She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t just lock me up because someone chased us through an ...