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Chapter 4 4

Word Count: 1222    |    Released on: 07/04/2026

thing else. Ethan hadn't spoken since they'd left his office, hadn't looked at her, hadn't touched he

n and two, the muscle ticking in his jaw. He was angry. More than angry-he was wrestli

th

d the engine, the sudden silence shocking a

g 7 without looking back. Kiera counted to thirty, watching him fumble with his

was worse than

ver been turned on. A kitchen with no food smells, no clutter, no evidence that anyone actually cooked there. The wal

ay, her heels loud again

hem on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area, the g

rather than comfort. Ethan remained standing, his hands brac

an. "What you allowed Gus to

y n

ix months, I might be dead, and you'll be here, wearing black at a funeral for a man you never really knew. Because-" He st

the plastic slick against

night that began with "We regret to inform you." Of the women he'd known, strong women, good women, who'd tried t

pend Christmas staring at a phone screen hoping for five minutes of connection. And that's if you're lucky. If you're not-" He pushed away from the counter, moving close

m. "You think you want this," he said. "You think you want me. But you're looking at the uniform, the rank

gainst her ribs. "You think you know me," she said. "You think because I wear expensive clothes and go to parti

. "I think you're used to a certain k

, rising from the couch

it-the flinch, the narrowing of his eyes, the

n his skin, the faint remnants of the morning's coffee. "You're protecting yourself. You'r

know anythi

ered existence. "I know you want me so badly you can't think straight, and it scares you because you've spent your whole life bein

he watched the war in his eyes-the discipline

e. "I know what it costs to trust someone. I know what it costs to open yourself up and have them-" She stopped, her voice cracking slightly, hating herse

yden's face when he'd told her she wasn't enough, of the empty apartment and the unanswered calls a

soft, too weak, too spoiled. I've survived worse than you can imagine. And I'm still here. Still standing.

le

and closed around her wrist. His fingers were warm, rough with calluses

asn't a question. It was a p

m s

to him with a force that drove the breath from her lungs. His face was buried in her hair, his heart hammering against her breast, and she

poken in the hotel, but different now, weighted wi

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