Maya’s POV

The drive feels endless. My pulse hasn’t slowed since that phone call — the one where Ethan promised to cut off a man’s hands like it was a casual threat.

The outside world disappears behind tinted glass as the car speeds through streets I don’t recognize. Not a word from Ethan. Not an explanation. Just silence and tension caged inside a suit.

Finally, the car turns into an underground garage. Metallic shutters close behind us, trapping us inside.

“Out,” he commands gently — too gently. Danger always softens in his voice right before it strikes.

I step out. My legs wobble. His hand finds my lower back instantly — steadying, controlling.

“This way.” He leads me to a private elevator guarded by two silent men with guns strapped beneath tailored jackets.

Guns. Real guns.

I swallow hard.

“Ethan…”

My voice cracks down the middle. “Why am I here?”

The elevator doors close. His body is too near. My anxiety has no space to breathe.

“There was a security breach,” he answers simply. “Someone knows your name.”

“My—my name?”

A chill ripples beneath my skin.

He turns, towering over me. “You were followed from work.”

My heart stops. “By who?”

“People who want leverage against my family.”

My throat tightens. “Because of you.”

His jaw ticks, but his eyes hold mine — dark, fierce.

“Because you’re under my protection.”

The elevator hums higher, and with every passing second, I feel more trapped in a world I do not understand.

The safehouse opens into dim lighting, bulletproof windows, heavily locked doors. Armed guards posted discreetly. Luxury and warfare blended into one.

“This…” I whisper, “this is your life?”

He steps in front of me — blocking the view, blocking everything.

“This is what it takes to keep you alive.”

He walks further in, assessing shadows like they might attack us.

I stay near the elevator, arms wrapped around myself. “I want to go home.”

He stops.

Then turns slowly — danger sharpening every angle of him.

“No.”

One word. A verdict.

“You can’t keep me here.”

His eyes flick down my frame — not lustful, but… protective. Obsessive. Territorial.

Like I’m something precious he’ll bleed for.

“You think your apartment is safe?”

He shakes his head once. “They would’ve taken you by morning.”

My chest constricts. “I didn’t ask for this—”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stalks closer — each step a slow threat.

His hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing skin that shouldn’t react the way it does.

“I’ll protect you, Maya,” he murmurs.

“Even if you hate me for it.”

I breathe shakily. “I don’t hate you.”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “Not yet.”

The air turns electric — desire and fear tangled too tightly to separate. My lips part—

He steps back like he’s ripping himself away.

“You’ll stay in the room across from mine,” he says, tone clipped. “Guards outside. If you need anything—”

“I won’t.”

Lie. Everything in me is trembling.

He looks… pained for a brief flicker.

Then shutters it away.

“You’re safe here.”

It sounds less like comfort and more like a command.

I disappear into the guest room before he can see the chaos on my face.

But even behind a locked door…

I can feel him on the other side.

Watching.

Guarding.

Waiting.

And the worst part?

A secret part of me feels safer in his danger than anywhere else in the world.

Ethan’s POV

She’s in the room across mine.

Too far.

My men sweep the perimeter again. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

Someone saw her. Someone followed her.

Because of me.

I grip the railing overlooking the living area until it groans under my hands.

She thinks I’m the threat.

That my presence ruins her life.

Maybe she’s right.

A memory stings — her pressed against the penthouse window, breath hitching under my touch.

She fit against me like she was carved for those moments.

I inhale slowly.

I want her.

Not like the others.

Not like a possession to be stored in gilded cages.

I want her heartbeat.

Her fear.

Her trust.

Her fire.

Every part of her that trembles — I want to be the reason.

Every part of her that fights — I want to be the one she surrenders to.

There’s a soft knock behind me.

“Boss — we found a tracker,” one guard says. “Attached to the bus she takes home.”

Heat floods my vision like blood in water.

They hunted her.

“Burn it,” I growl. “Anyone who touches her dies.”

The guard nods and leaves.

I look towards her door — thin wood separating me from the only softness left in my life.

She’s sleeping in my world now.

And whether she realizes it or not…

I would destroy anyone — anything — to keep her alive.

Even if that includes the part of me that knows I shouldn’t have her.