Chapter 325
Chapter 325
Chapter 185: Go To Sleep
Lizzie
“I’m going with you. I don’t care if you fancy the idea or not. It’s not your decision to make, Reese p>
My voice was steady. I didn’t shout. I didn’t whine. I said it like a fact. A non–negotiable statement of reality.
Reese didn’t even bother turning around as he walked ahead. “You’re not doing shit, Elizabeth. ”
I followed right behind him, practically glued to him like a second shadow. Roman had dipped the moment the tension picked up, muttering something like “ I should check on Savannah. ” He left me alone with Reese. I still wasn’t sure whether that was accidental or
strategic.
Reese moved through the hallway with that slow, purposeful walk of his. The type that said he didn’t need to raise his voice to be the one
in charge.
He pushed open the door to his room. I planted myself in the doorway before he could close it.
“And who are you to tell me what to do?” I asked, chin lifted. “You’re not my father. You’re not my husband. Even if you were, I would still have autonomy. It is my life. I make the rules. So you have zero authority over my choices p>
He paused. Turned. The amusement in his eyes was subtle but very much there. “Agreed,” he said. “But I am the guy whose home you’re trying to raid, and I’m telling you no. Go to sleep. This does not concern you p>
He stepped inside and slammed the door in my face. The sound cracked like a tight slap to the face. The sound snapped something in my
spine.
My body jerked in shock.
I pushed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall. “How dare you,” I whispered, not to him but to the audacity of the universe.
I stormed inside. “How dare you slam the door in my face p>
Reese didn’t even turn to look at me. He was already pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a broad, muscled back and shoulder blades that flexed beneath olive–toned skin. I opened my mouth to yell, but the moment my eyes caught the ink down his spine, the words disappeared.
The tattoo ran from the base of his neck all the way down the center of his back. Dark lines and curves. Almost like wings. Or something
written.
1/2
Chapter 325
“What’s that? ” I asked before I could stop myself. “What does it say p>
He tossed the shirt aside and looked over his shoulder at me with a state that was equal parts warning and exhaustion. “Get out of my room, Elizabeth. This discussion is over p>
“No.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving p>
He faced me fully now, hands settling on his hips. His patience was thinning, but his expression stayed calm. That was what irritated me most. He didn’t need to yell to feel powerful. He didn’t need to bark to control the room. His presence was a whole authority by itself.
I hated that I liked it.
“I am resourceful,” I insisted. “I’m smart. I’m strong. You’re going to need me. I know it.” My voice cracked slightly, but I held my spine straight. I needed him to hear me. Not just listen. Hear. Understand.
I could not just go back home. I could not just go back to my mother. I don’t want to.
Going back to Chicago meant surrender. It meant walking into a cage with a pretty gold lock. It meant being told what to wear. What to eat. What to say. Who to let near me. Who to pretend to love.
She’ll set me up with men who look right on paper. Button–down shirts. Clean haircuts. Desk jobs. Quiet family life. Men who drink scotch and play pool on Fridays and think being a gentleman means opening doors but never asking who you actually are inside.
“Please, Reese.” I clasped my hands together. “Just let me have this last bit of fun p>
He didn’t respond. He just watched me.
My mother would drag me to brunches with women who spent their lives keeping score of who was better. She would parade me in front of sons who had expensive degrees and empty souls. Sons who played polite but looked at me like I was something to acquire and own. Sons who would nod while I talked, only to later whisper to their brothers that I was strange. Morbid. Too intense.
Comments
✩ 2
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.