Raven's Point of View
My arms were wrapped around his torso, but I couldn't reach all the way around him.
I tried.
God, I tried.
My fingers strained uselessly behind his back, blocked by solid muscle and sheer size. He was too broad, too hard-like hugging a wall that breathed. He towered over me completely, his chest a solid barrier between me and the world I didn't want to face anymore.
I was shaking so badly I could barely stand.
He let out a slow, controlled sigh above me, deep and heavy, and then I felt it-his other hand coming around, large and careful, settling against my back. Not tight. Not possessive.
Steady.
Grounding.
I broke.
The sob ripped out of me without warning, loud and ugly and terrifying. My face pressed into his chest as my body gave up pretending I was okay. My shoulders shook, my knees felt weak, and for a split second I thought I might collapse completely.
But he didn't let me.
He held me there like I weighed nothing, like it was instinct, like his body knew exactly how to brace me when mine couldn't anymore.
It was so scary.
And so confusing.
Because I felt... safe.
So safe it made my chest ache.
His body was warm-hot, really-and the heat soaked into me through my clothes. He smelled incredible, clean and sharp and masculine in a way that made my breath hitch even through the panic. Expensive. Familiar already, somehow.
I clutched his shirt like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
My mind was in chaos-David's hands, his voice, the way the corridor felt too close-but wrapped in Dominic's arms, the noise dulled. Like the world had been turned down a few notches.
His hand pressed more firmly between my shoulder blades, not rubbing, not moving-just there.
Anchoring me.
I realized distantly that his heart was beating fast beneath my cheek.
Not calm.
Not untouched.
Fast. Hard.
Like mine.
"I-" I tried to speak, but it came out broken, my throat closing around the words.
He didn't tell me to hush.
Didn't rush me.
Didn't pull away.
He just stayed.
And somehow, that did more than anything else could have.
I didn't know why this man-this terrifying, powerful, impossible man-felt like the safest place I'd ever been.
I only knew that when he was holding me like this, the city didn't feel so big anymore.
And I wasn't alone.
Since his white shirt was unbuttoned, I could feel everything.
The hard rise of his chest beneath my cheek.
The steady, powerful beat of his heart.
The heat of his skin bleeding straight through the thin fabric like it had nowhere else to go.
I was trembling in his arms.
Not just from what had almost happened-but from how easily he held me together after.
I didn't know how long I stayed like that-wrapped in his warmth, my face buried against him, my body shaking as the shock slowly drained out of me. His hands stayed on my back, large and commanding, yet impossibly careful, like he was holding something fragile without ever admitting it.
I shouldn't be here.
Not like this.
Not with him.
The realization hit me all at once, sharp and humiliating, and I forced myself to pull back. The loss of his warmth sent a ridiculous shiver down my spine. My arms dropped, my fingers curling into fists as I stepped away, wiping at my wet cheeks quickly, my gaze glued to the ground.
I couldn't look at him.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
Dominic exhaled through his nose. Not annoyed. Not soft either. Just controlled.
"For what?"
I shook my head, embarrassment flooding in now that the moment was over. "For... crying on you. For hugging you. I don't know. I just-"
His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for me again.
But he didn't.
"Don't apologize."
The quiet command sent a strange heat curling through my chest.
I hesitated-then slowly looked up.
And instantly regretted it.
He was too close. Way too close.
The sharp cut of his jaw. The light stubble shadowing it. His white shirt gaping open at the top, exposing a broad, tattooed chest that looked carved rather than built. Dark and color ink stretched over muscle, disappearing beneath the fabric like there was a whole story written under there.
Jamie hadn't lied.
Those pictures hadn't lied.
His lips were full-dangerously so-and his eyes... God. They were locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. Dark. Unreadable. Like he was holding something back by force alone.
His breath brushed my face-cool, minty-and I had the stupidest urge to close my eyes and breathe him in.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I pulled my arm around myself, suddenly aware of how small I felt next to him, how exposed.
The air between us thickened, heavy with something unspoken and dangerous. There was something in the way he looked at me-possessive without touching, restrained but burning-that made my skin prickle.
Like he was fighting himself.
I broke eye contact first, my heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.
He's dangerous.
He's married.
But he saved me.
I looked up-and instantly wished I hadn't.
His face was hard now. Not furious like before. Worse. Controlled. Tight. His jaw flexed as his eyes dragged over me, really looking at me, like he was finally seeing how shaken I was.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked.
I blinked. "What?"
"Waiting for the bus," he snapped. "Alone. At night."
My brows knit together in confusion. "I-because my shift was over?" I said slowly, like I was missing something obvious.
His nostrils flared.
"That's not an answer," he bit out.
I hugged myself tighter, my shoulders hunching defensively. "I work for you, Dominic. When I'm done, I go home. That's how this works."
His lips parted like he was about to say something sharp-but nothing came out.
"Didn't think to wait?" he asked instead, voice low and tight.
"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused. "You were busy."
The word slipped out so easily.
So innocently.
Busy.
His body went still.
Completely still.
The air around us changed, thickening, pressing in on my chest. His eyes locked onto mine, darkening in a way that made my breath hitch without permission.
"Busy," he repeated quietly.
I nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. You told me to leave. So I did."
His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack. One of his hands curled slowly into a fist at his side, veins standing out along his forearm.
"Doing whatever you were doing," I added softly, almost apologetically.
The effect was immediate.
It was like I'd struck something raw.
He turned his head sharply, dragging a hand down his face, breathing out through his nose like he was fighting something violent inside himself. When he looked back at me, there was something wild behind his eyes-anger tangled with something darker, something he clearly hated.
"You shouldn't have been walking," he said, voice rough. "You shouldn't have been out there."
My heart started pounding. "I didn't know that would happen," I whispered. "And it's not like I was doing anything wrong."
His gaze dropped to my hands, to the way I was hugging myself, trembling. His expression shifted-just for a second. Something like guilt. Something like restraint snapping into place.
"I warned him," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "He should've known."
I hesitated, then asked quietly, "Why are you so mad at me?"
He looked at me then.
Really looked.
And for a moment, I thought he might say something honest.
Instead, his voice came out low and controlled. "Because you shouldn't have been touched. Ever."
A chill ran through me.
Not fear.
Something else.
I opened my mouth to respond-but he stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between us, forcing me to look up at him again.
"Get in the car," he said.
Not angry.
Not shouting.
Just... final.
And somehow, that scared me more than anything else.
"It's okay," I said quickly, forcing the words out even though my voice still shook.
"I'm fine."
Dominic didn't move.
"I'll take the bus," I added, glancing down the street like it might magically appear if I looked hard enough. "It's coming soon."
"Raven."
The way he said my name-low, warning-made my spine stiffen.
"I'm really okay," I insisted, softer now. "You already did enough. You saved me. I can take it from here."
The wind cut through us, sharp and relentless. I wiped at the last of my tears with the back of my hand, my fingers numb. My heart was still racing, but I stood my ground.
He's married, a voice whispered in my head.
He's already crossed enough lines tonight.
Dominic stared at me like I'd just said something unforgivable.
"You almost-" he started, his voice breaking rough around the edges.
"You almost fucking got ra-"
The word caught in his throat.
His breath hitched hard, chest rising sharply like he'd been punched from the inside. For a split second, he looked... rattled.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Terrified.
Then it vanished.
"Get in the fucking car," he roared.
I flinched despite myself, my shoulders jerking as the sound echoed down the empty street. My heart slammed against my ribs, but I didn't move.
"No," I said, shaking my head even as my knees trembled. "I said I'm fine."
His hand dragged through his hair, pushing it back roughly as his jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jump. The streetlight nearby cast harsh shadows across his face-cutting along his cheekbones, lighting the edge of his mouth.
He looked unreal.
Furious.
Controlled only by force of will.
"You don't get it," he said, voice tight, measured now, like he was barely keeping himself in check. "I'm not asking."
"I didn't ask you to come," I shot back, hugging myself again as another gust of wind slammed into us. "And I didn't ask you to fix everything."
His eyes snapped to mine.
"You didn't have to," he said darkly. "That's the fucking problem."
Silence fell between us, heavy and charged.
I swallowed, my voice coming out smaller. "You already did enough, Dominic. Really."
Something dangerous flickered across his face at that.
Not anger.
Resolve.
He stepped closer, towering over me, his presence blocking the wind, the street, everything. I had to tilt my head back to look at him.
"I'm not leaving you out here," he said.
Not loud.
Not gentle.
Absolute.
And suddenly, I knew-this wasn't about the bus anymore.
It never was.
One arm lifted slowly, deliberately, his finger extending past me.
Pointing.
At his car.
It sat crooked in the middle of the street, engine still running, headlights cutting through the dark like it had been abandoned in a hurry. Like he hadn't even bothered to park it. Like he'd just flown out of it the second he saw me.
"Either you get in the fucking car," he said, voice low and lethal-
-or-
"I'll put you in myself."
The words landed heavy.
Final.
My breath hitched hard.
The way he said it wasn't loud. Wasn't rushed. It was calm in the scariest way possible, like he'd already decided how this was ending and my opinion was just a courtesy.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared up at him, my fingers curling into my shirt.
"I said I'm fine," I whispered, even though my voice betrayed me. "I can go home on my own."
His jaw tightened.
"You're shaking," he snapped, eyes dropping briefly to my hands before locking back onto my face. "You can barely stand."
"That doesn't mean-"
"It means I'm not leaving you out here," he cut in sharply.
I swallowed. "You don't get to decide that."
Something dark flickered in his eyes at that.
Not anger.
Not exactly.
Possession.
He stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him, smell that same intoxicating mix of leather, mint, and something dangerously masculine. His tattooed chest, ink stretching and moving with every heavy breath he took.
"You think this is about deciding?" he said quietly. "You think I care about being polite right now?"
My pulse went wild.
"You were alone," he continued, voice dropping further. "At night. After I already warned him."
The muscle in his cheek jumped.
"I twisted his fingers in front of an entire room so he'd understand," he went on, dark and controlled. "And he still touched you."
My throat closed.
"And you think," he said, leaning down just enough that his words brushed my ear, "that I'm going to let you stand on this street and wait for a bus like nothing almost happened?"
I shook my head, tears burning again. "You already saved me. Please-just let me go home."
His eyes softened for half a second.
Then hardened into something worse.
"I am getting you home," he said. "One way or another."
The wind howled between us, tugging at my hair, my clothes, my resolve. His arm was still lifted, pointing toward the car, his body still blocking my path.
"You walk into that car," he said slowly, deliberately, "or I carry you. And I promise you won't like how that looks."
My breath stuttered.
God.
He was terrifying.
He was furious.
And somehow-infuriatingly-I knew he meant every single word.
I stood there, trembling, caught between fear, pride, and the undeniable pull of the man who had just ripped my attacker off me like he weighed nothing at all.
And for the first time since tonight started-
I wasn't sure I was strong enough to say no.
Dominic didn't ask again.
"Get. In. The fucking car," he said calmly.
Too calmly.
My jaw tightened. My entire body ached-twelve hours of sitting and staring at a screen, my head pounding, my clothes still clinging to my skin from the fear, the adrenaline, the almost.
Almost ra-
I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing myself not to shake. I was exhausted. I was shaken. But I was still me.
"I said no," I snapped. "You don't get to just drag me around because you feel like it."
That's when Dominic finally smiled.
Slow.
Cold.
Deadly.
"You're tired," he said. "You're scared. And you're testing my patience."
He took one step closer. I could smell him now-expensive, dark, dangerous.
"And I don't have patience, Raven."
My heart slammed against my ribs, but I didn't move.
"I can walk home," I said. "I don't need you."
That smile vanished.
Dominic inhaled through his nose, long and controlled, like he was reining in something feral.
"Wrong answer."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving mine.
"I'm going to count," he said quietly. "And you're going to get in the car."
My pulse went wild.
"Or what?" I whispered.
Dominic leaned down just enough that his mouth was near my ear, his voice dropping into something that made my stomach flip in the worst, most sinful way.
"Or I stop being nice."
He straightened.
"Three."
The word hit like a gunshot.
I swallowed hard, still frozen, still stubborn. I hated that my legs felt weak. Hated that part of me wanted to obey.
"Two."
His voice was colder now. Sharper.
The street felt empty. Too quiet. Like the world itself had stepped back.
My fingers curled into fists. I didn't move.
Dominic's jaw clenched.
"One."
I opened my mouth-
And Dominic moved.
In a blink he was in front of me, one arm wrapping around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground like I weighed nothing. My breath punched out of my chest as I instinctively grabbed his shirt.
"I warned you," he growled, carrying me toward the car with long, unhurried strides. "You don't say no to me."
"Dominic-!" I protested, hitting his chest weakly.
He opened the passenger door with one hand and set me down roughly-but carefully-inside the seat.
I stared up at him, chest heaving, fury and fear burning in my eyes.
He leaned in, bracing a hand on the door above my head, his face inches from mine.
"You held your ground," he said lowly. "I'll give you that."
Then his eyes darkened.
"But don't ever forget-when I want something, Raven... it goes my way."
He slammed the door shut.
The car door clicked locked.
And I knew-deep in my bones-I had just poked a man who didn't lose.
I sat there frozen, chest rising too fast, staring at the dashboard like it might bite me. The engine was still running-low, powerful, impatient. The car smelled like him. Clean. Dark. Expensive. Like danger wrapped in money and bad decisions.
My eyes dropped.
Buttons.
So many buttons.
Rare ones. Metallic. Backlit. Nothing cheap. Everything deliberate. This wasn't a car-it was a weapon.
I still couldn't believe he'd lifted me.
Like I weighed nothing.
Like I belonged nowhere else but exactly where he put me.
Heat crawled up my neck and I immediately shut that thought down.
Nope. Absolutely not.
I scolded myself hard.
What the fuck, Raven. He's married.
And you almost got raped.
Now is NOT the time to think about your married boss with his stupid arms and stupid hands and-
Jamie's voice rang in my head, loud and judgmental.
Keep your panties on.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
They will forever stay on.
Forever.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The driver's door opened.
Dominic slid inside like he owned the night itself. The door shut with a heavy thud and suddenly the space felt smaller. Fuller. Charged.
He didn't look at me.
Didn't say a word.
He just grabbed the steering wheel-and floored it.
The car launched forward so fast my stomach dropped. The city lights blurred instantly, streaking past the windows as if we were running from something. Or toward it.
Or both.
I turned to him, heart pounding.
His hands-
God.
One huge, tattooed, veiny hand gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. The other rested on his thigh, fingers flexing like he was holding himself back from snapping something in half.
Him.
The way his jaw clenched.
The way his temple veins stood out harder now, pulsing as the streetlights flashed over his face.
He looked ridiculously, dangerously hot.
And furious.
I swallowed.
I felt like I was going to die.
Twice tonight.
"Dominic," I said, voice shaking despite my effort, "you need to slow down."
He didn't answer right away.
Then his eyes flicked to me-calm, controlled, unreadable.
"Put your fucking seatbelt on," he said smoothly, "if you can't handle the ride."
The way he said it-
Dark. Low.
And that smirk-lazy, knowing, completely inappropriate.
It sounded wrong.
It sounded sexual, even though I knew it shouldn't.
My breath hitched.
Damn it.
I melted a little before I could stop myself and immediately hated it.
I reached for the seatbelt with shaky hands and clicked it into place.
And that's when I noticed.
He wasn't wearing one.
Of course he wasn't.
I stared at his broad chest, his solid frame, completely unrestrained, completely unbothered.
Wow.
Built different.
Dangerous different.
Mafia leader, my brain whispered uselessly.
God damn.
He raked a hand through his hair, pulling it back hard, like he was trying to keep control of himself. His jaw flexed again.
I watched him drive, brows furrowing.
I leaned back against the seat, heart racing, realizing something terrifying and undeniable.
I wasn't going home because I told him to.
I was going home because Dominic Derveaux decided it.
And somehow-
That scared me less than it should have.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight, my voice barely above a whisper.
"How did you know?"
The car hummed beneath us, powerful and unforgiving, swallowing the city whole as we tore through the streets. Dominic's fingers twitched over the steering wheel-just once, barely noticeable, but I saw it.
"I followed you."
The words landed wrong.
Heavy. Sharp.
I blinked and slowly turned my head toward him, my heart slamming against my ribs. "You... what?"
His grip tightened, leather creaking under the pressure of his hands. His voice stayed controlled-too controlled-but there was something underneath it. Something dark. Something barely leashed.
"I wanted to make sure you got on the bus safely."
My chest ached.
"You..." My voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying in my throat.
He had been there.
Watching.
Following.
Looking out for me.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it, confusion swirling until it made me dizzy. "Why?"
Dominic exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw flexing. "Because I knew something like this could happen."
A shiver ran straight down my spine.
He knew.
Not suspected.
Not worried.
Knew.
And I had walked right into it like an idiot.
If he hadn't followed me-
If he hadn't been there-
A small, broken sound slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
Dominic's head snapped toward me instantly.
His dark eyes swept over my face, sharp and assessing, taking in everything-the tear tracks on my cheeks, the way my hands trembled in my lap, the way my shoulders curled inward like I was bracing for another hit.
His expression didn't soften.
It hardened.
Something dangerous flickered there.
Protective.
Furious.
Barely restrained.
The silence between us thickened, pressing in on my chest until it felt hard to breathe.
The car didn't slow.
If anything, he drove faster.
The city thinned out, glass and steel giving way to cracked sidewalks, dim streetlights, buildings stacked too close together like they were holding their breath. I watched it all blur past the window, my chest tight, my body still buzzing with leftover fear and adrenaline.
Dominic's face hardened the farther we went.
It wasn't the cold, controlled fury from earlier.
This was bitter. Darker. Older.
Dominic's headlights swept over an old welcome sign at the edge of the road.
WELCOME TO ASHWICK
Established 1952
Lower Ash District
You're on your own here.
The words looked tired.
Forgotten.
Like no one cared enough to fix them.
Dominic didn't slow down.
If anything, he accelerated.
The clean pavement disappeared first, smooth asphalt giving way to cracked, uneven streets patched together like they'd been repaired too many times and abandoned anyway.
Streetlights grew dimmer.
Some didn't work at all.
Dominic didn't say a word.
His jaw locked, muscles in his cheek flexing as his eyes dragged over the run-down houses and tired apartment buildings like they personally offended him. His grip tightened on the wheel-so hard I could hear it. The leather creaked under his hands, the sound sharp in the quiet car.
It reminded me of last night.
When he dropped me off.
When he stared at my building like he hated it.
But tonight?
Tonight was worse.
And then-
it became worse.
The air itself felt heavier. Thicker.
Lower Ash.
The apartments stacked closer together, leaning into each other like they were struggling to stay upright. Balconies sagged. Lights flickered. Shadows shifted where they shouldn't.
Dominic's headlights exposed everything.
Where I lived.
Where I survived.
His jaw flexed again.
Then he turned onto Oak Street.
My street.
And my stomach dropped.
My hands started shaking harder this time. My throat went dry as my building came into view-the flickering entrance light, the broken steps, the pavement cracked and uneven like it had given up years ago.
He pulled up and parked.
Too abruptly.
The engine idled, loud in the silence.
I sucked in a breath, my chest tight.
I just needed to get out.
Needed space.
Needed to breathe.
My fingers trembled as I reached up, pulling a loose strand of blonde hair away from my face. I leaned forward, hand wrapping around the door handle-
A low growl left him.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Something worse.
My breath caught.
Then I felt it.
His hand.
Rough and warm against my back, spanning my forearm like it belonged there. His touch was firm but careful, heat seeping straight through my clothes. It was... grounding. Real. Too real.
My body reacted before my mind could stop it.
I let out a shaky breath, my knees weakening just a little. The contact did something to me-settled me and unraveled me all at once. My shaking didn't stop, but it shifted, softer, confused.
I turned toward him without thinking.
His face was different.
Not furious.
Not closed off.
Something had softened there-just for a second. His eyes searched mine, dark and intent, like he was checking that I was still here. Still breathing. Still intact.
Then it was gone.
He pulled his hand back like it burned, jaw clenching as he cleared his throat and looked out the windshield instead.
"You're still shaking," he said, voice rough.
I swallowed but didn't answer.
He leaned back, reaching into the backseat. I followed the movement automatically, glancing out through the windshield-at people still lingering on the sidewalks, cars crawling past, voices drifting from open windows.
Then he turned back toward me.
And held out his suit jacket.
I stared at it.
Black. Heavy. Expensive. Perfectly tailored.
"What-" My voice failed. "Dominic-"
"It'll keep you warm," he said simply.
My heart dropped straight into my stomach.
I took it from him with shaking hands, the fabric thick and impossibly soft. His scent hit me instantly-rich cologne, something dark and clean underneath, unmistakably him. It wrapped around me like a presence.
I slipped it on.
It was too big. Too heavy. Swallowed my frame completely. But the warmth was immediate, grounding, like being shielded.
I pulled my hair free from under the collar, fingers clumsy.
When I looked up-
His eyes had gone dark.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Focused.
His gaze dragged over me slowly, deliberately, taking in the way his jacket hung off my shoulders, the way I clutched it closed like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Sir... why are you looking at me like that?
Something unspoken passed between us-something dangerous, something neither of us was ready to touch.
"I-I'll give it back to you tomorrow," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed.
He didn't even flinch. Instead, his eyes raked over the jacket on me, slow and deliberate, dark and intense.
"Keep it," he said, voice low and unreadable, and my stomach twisted at the way he said it.
His gaze lingered on me, not letting go, as if he was memorizing every inch of me in that moment.
I broke it.
I opened the door and stepped out quickly, before he could move, before he could open it for me like last night. He'd done enough.
The wind hit immediately, cold and sharp, whipping my hair around as I shut the door.
My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked around the front of his car. I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and unrelenting, following every step.
I wrapped the jacket tighter around myself.
God.
It smelled like him.
Too much like him.
I stopped when I heard his window slide down.
I turned.
He looked at me through the open window, face half-shadowed, streetlight catching the sharp lines of his features.
"Thank you," I said quietly. My voice wavered. "For everything. For saving me. For finding me. For not letting me disappear into something I wouldn't have survived."
His eyes locked onto mine. Something fierce flashed there-possessive, protective, almost painful.
"You don't thank someone," he said slowly, "for what was already theirs to do."
My breath hitched. "What does that-"
The window slid up.
Just like that.
No explanation. No goodbye.
The car pulled away, tires humming against the pavement, and within seconds he was gone-vanishing down Oak Street like he'd never been there at all.
I stood there for a long moment, his jacket wrapped around me, heart pounding, lungs burning.
The night felt colder without him.
And somehow-
I knew this wasn't over.
My legs still felt like they didn't belong to me as I walked up the cracked pavement toward my apartment building. Every step echoed too loud in the night, my heels clicking sharply against the uneven sidewalk.
The front door was propped open like always, the lock useless. I stepped inside and headed for the stairs, already digging my keys out of my bag out of habit.
I reached my floor and fumbled with the lock.
Home.
My fingers trembled as I unlocked the door.
The smell hit me instantly.
Warm. Comforting. Something fried, something spiced-garlic and onions and whatever magic Lila always did when she cooked. It wrapped around me before I even fully stepped inside.
"Damn, girl," Jamie's voice floated from the kitchen, playful and dramatic as always. "You look like you just got thrown out of a telenovela."
I tried to laugh. I really did.
But the second he looked at my face, his smile vanished.
"Whoa," he said, straightening. "Okay. Nope. That's not funny anymore. What happened?"
Lila turned from the stove, spatula still in her hand. The concern on her face was immediate and sharp. "Raven? Did something happen at work?"
My throat tightened.
I kicked off my heels by the door and walked further inside, every step heavy, my legs finally starting to feel like jelly. I stopped in the kitchen, gripping the edges of the suit jacket tighter around me like it was the only thing holding me together.
"You wouldn't believe my day," I said quietly.
Jamie was already pulling out a chair. "Sit. Now."
I didn't argue. The moment I sat down, the adrenaline drained from my body, leaving nothing but exhaustion and shaking hands.
Lila set a plate in front of me without a word before sitting across from me. "Okay," she said carefully. "Did that rich bastard yell at you again or something?"
I let out a weak huff. "No. He... he saved me."
Both of them froze.
The kitchen went dead silent.
"Saved you from what?" Jamie asked slowly, his tone completely different now.
Before I could answer, both of their eyes dropped.
To the jacket.
Jamie's mouth fell open. Lila's brows pulled together sharply.
They stared at it like it had personally offended them.
Jamie leaned closer, squinting. "Hold on. Since when do you own that?"
Lila crossed her arms. "Yeah, no. That jacket costs more than our apartment building."
I swallowed, instinctively clutching it tighter around myself.
Jamie sniffed the air dramatically. "And oh my God," he groaned, "it smells so good. Like... expensive man."
"Jamie," I muttered, rolling my eyes, even as my cheeks heated.
He leaned in and sniffed again. "I'm serious. This jacket smells like money and bad decisions."
I tightened my grip on the fabric, the weight of it suddenly heavy-not just on my shoulders, but on my chest. "He gave me this because I was shaking. That's it."
"Uh-huh," Jamie said skeptically. "And he just happened to have his designer jacket ready for emotional support."
I shot him a look. "Can you not?"
Lila sat and leaned forward, her voice softer now. "Raven. Start from the beginning."
I inhaled slowly. "He saved me from a guy at the company."
Jamie's expression darkened instantly. "What guy?"
"He followed me when I left late," I continued, my voice starting to crack despite my effort to keep it together. "And he-" My words caught. My fists clenched in my lap. "He tried to-"
Lila shot up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor. "Are you kidding me?"
Jamie's jaw tightened. "Who was it?"
I shook my head. "It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does," Jamie snapped.
"Dominic beat the hell out of him," I said quietly.
Lila's lips parted. "Wait. What?"
Jamie leaned forward, eyes wide. "You're telling me your boss-Mr. Ice-Cold, Mafia-Rich, Emotionally Constipated-threw hands for you?"
I nodded slowly. "He didn't just fight him. He-he destroyed him." My stomach twisted at the memory. "It wasn't even a fight. It was like he... snapped."
The kitchen went quiet again.
Lila and Jamie exchanged a look.
Then Jamie grinned. "Damn."
Lila smacked his arm hard. "Jamie!"
"What?" he said defensively. "I'm not saying it's okay. I'm saying-"
"This is serious," she cut in.
"I know," I said, rubbing my temples. "And that's not even the craziest part."
Lila sat back down slowly. "Go on."
I hesitated, staring at the plate in front of me even though I had no appetite.
"He followed me."
Both of their jaws dropped.
"He said he wanted to make sure I got on the bus safely," I continued. "That's how he knew where I was."
Lila sucked in a breath. "That's... a lot."
Jamie rested his chin in his hands. "Sounds like your scary rich boss might be a little obsessed with you."
I scoffed immediately. "Don't be ridiculous."
Jamie lifted a brow. "Raven. Men don't follow women home and beat the hell out of creeps unless they care."
"I barely know him," I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
"Mm-hmm," Jamie hummed. "And yet he gave you his jacket."
I glanced down at it, my fingers curling into the fabric again.
"I told him I'd give it back tomorrow," I said quietly. "He told me to keep it."
Lila watched me closely. "And how did that make you feel?"
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
Because I didn't know how to explain the way my heart had dropped. Or the way his eyes had looked at me like letting me walk away hurt him more than anything else tonight.
"I don't know," I finally admitted.
Jamie leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You hesitated."
I swallowed.
The kitchen felt suddenly too quiet, like the walls themselves were leaning in to listen. The jacket weighed heavy on my shoulders-not just the fabric, but what it meant. His hands. His voice. The way he'd looked at me before driving away.
"I don't think it's like that," I said finally, though my voice didn't carry much conviction.
Jamie tilted his head, studying me. "You hesitated. That's a yes-adjacent."
"I hesitated because I'm exhausted," I snapped weakly, then immediately sighed. "Because I almost-" My throat closed. I swallowed hard. "Because tonight could've ended very differently."
Lila's expression softened instantly. She moved around the table and crouched in front of me, taking my hands in hers. "Hey. You're home. You're safe. That's what matters."
My hands were still shaking. I hadn't noticed until she said it.
"I didn't even realize how bad it was until I got in the car," I admitted quietly. "I kept thinking... if he hadn't followed me-"
Jamie didn't joke this time. His voice was low. "But he did."
I nodded. "Yeah. He did."
Silence settled again, thicker now. I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the town noise outside the window, my own uneven breathing.
"When he says I could keep the jacket it." My cheeks warmed. "The way he said it was... weird."
Jamie's eyes sparkled despite himself. "Weird how?"
"Like it wasn't a suggestion," I muttered. "Like he'd already decided."
Lila stood and crossed her arms. "Okay. Here's what we're not going to do. We're not romanticizing this just because he's rich and terrifying and looks like he walked out of a very illegal calendar."
"Thank you," I said quickly.
"But," she added, holding up a finger, "we are allowed to acknowledge that he protected you. That matters."
I nodded again, slower this time.
"And then..." I took a shaky breath, still reliving it in my head. "After he finished... beating David..." I swallowed hard.
Jamie blinked. "David?" He scoffed. "Wow. That name sounds way too pure for someone who just got wrecked."
I rolled my eyes so hard I was pretty sure they could hear it. "Yeah, yeah. Very funny. Anyway..." I shook my head and continued, trying to ignore Jamie's ridiculous grin.
"Then he bent down to grab my bag-David had ripped it from me." I whispered "he says to come to him,"
Jamie and Lila gasped
"But he didn't move," I said, holding my hands up like I was gesturing for effect. "Didn't open his arms. Didn't reach out. It was... like he didn't know what to do with the command he just gave. So I... I ran to him. Stumbled. Shaking. And wrapped my arms around him."
Jamie didn't gasp. He didn't scream. He just stared at me for a long second, then slowly leaned back in his chair.
"...You hugged him," he said flatly.
I winced.
Lila sighed, rubbing her temple like she already had a headache. "Of course you did."
"And he-" I hesitated, then added, quieter, "he jerked. Like I shocked him. Every muscle went solid under me. He stopped breathing. Didn't move. Didn't say anything." I swallowed. "But he didn't push me away."
Jamie let out a low whistle. "Yeah. That tracks."
"That tracks?" I repeated.
Lila shot him a look. "After last night? Raven, you almost kissed him. This is just... the next step in your bad decisions era."
"I was scared," I said defensively. "I didn't think."
Jamie nodded slowly. "Exactly. You don't think. You feel. And somehow your feelings keep landing you in the arms of a married mafia boss."
Lila sat back down but leaned forward, eyes sharp but not unkind. "You don't hug men like that unless you already feel safe with them. Or want them."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Jamie smirked. "She didn't deny it."
"I'm not saying I want him," I snapped. "I'm saying it just... happened."
"Mmhmm," Jamie hummed. "And somehow, every time it 'just happens,' he doesn't let you go."
Lila tilted her head, studying me. "That's the part that should scare you."
I looked down at my hands. "It doesn't."
Silence.
"He... he did hug me back," I said, shaking my head, still trying to understand it myself. "But it was like-" I swallowed. "Like he didn't know what to do with himself. Like he's never... ever been hugged before."
That did it.
Jamie froze.
Lila went completely still.
"What?" Jamie said slowly. "What do you mean never been hugged before?"
"I mean exactly that," I said quietly. "His arms were stiff at first. Like he was thinking through it. Like he had to decide if he was allowed to touch me back."
Lila's fingers tightened on the edge of the table. "Raven..."
"And then he did," I went on, my voice softer now. "But it wasn't smooth. Or practiced. It was like he was learning in real time."
Jamie stared at me like I'd just rewritten everything he thought he knew. "That's... that's not normal."
"No," Lila whispered. "That's not dangerous. That's sad."
I nodded, my chest tightening. "That's what scared me."
They were quiet for a beat before I continued.
"And then," I said, exhaling, "he wanted to drive me home. I told him no-he'd already done enough tonight. But... of course, he didn't take it."
Jamie leaned back, dragging a hand down his face. "Yeah. That part checks out."
"We argued," I said. "Well. I tried to."
Lila dropped her head into her hands. "Oh no. Raven."
"He said it slow," I added. "Like he was giving me time to understand the threat. 'You walk into that car, or I carry you. And I promise you won't like how that looks.'"
Jamie nearly choked. "Jesus Christ."
"And then," I finished, my stomach flipping, "he started counting."
Lila gasped. "He counted?"
I nodded.
"I kept saying no," I said, frowning at the memory. "I really did! But... before I knew it-he just... scooped me up in his huge arms. I-I gasped, I swear! And he walked so fast, so strong, to his car, and then... he just put me in it. Like it was nothing to him."
Jamie's hands flew to his face. "He-he just picked you up? What the hell?!"
Lila was practically bouncing in her chair. "I can't! He is married! And you just... let him?!"
I threw my hands up, exasperated. "I didn't have a choice! I mean... what was I gonna do? Fight him? He's Dominic Derveaux!"
Jamie groaned, leaning back. "Ohhh, I am losing my mind. This is insane. I cannot believe what I just heard."
Lila, wide-eyed, muttered, "I can't even... the mafia boss. Our best friend. In his arms."
I just rolled my eyes, muttering, "Yeah, yeah... you two keep freaking out."
I ran my hands over my face, trying to steady myself, still wrapped in the jacket he gave me. "Okay... so before all of this," I started, voice shaky, "the guy who almost tried to... you know, he's the same one who was... in the meeting earlier."
Lila squints at me. "Back up. Back the fuck up. What meeting?"
I swallow. My hands are still shaking even thinking about it.
"So... before all of that," I say, rubbing my palms on my thighs, "we were in a meeting. Conference room. Long table. Bunch of men in suits."
Jamie already looks suspicious. "I don't like where this is going."
"The way he was looking at me like he want to eat me alive," I make a face.
Lila's mouth drops open. "Ew."
"And then," I say, my stomach twisting, "he started playing footsies with me under the table."
Both of them explode.
"NO-"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT-"
"I froze," I rush out. "I felt so small. I didn't want to cause a scene, everyone important was there, and I didn't know what to do. I just sat there."
Jamie looks like he might actually combust. "Raven."
"But Dominic," I say, voice shaking now, "he saw it. He saw my face. He saw how uncomfortable I was."
Lila leans forward. "What did he do."
I inhale.
"He looked straight at the guy and said-" I swallow, then repeat it exactly:
'Move your foot again... and I'll break your fucking kneecaps.'
Jamie SCREAMS. "EXCUSE ME?!"
"I'm not done," I say quickly, because I'm shaking but I can't stop now. "Then he said-"
'Next time you touching her, you won't leave this building with your hands intact.'
Lila straightened up. "I'M CALLING THE POLICE-"
"He didn't even hit him at first," I said, my voice trembling despite myself. "Dominic just... stood up."
Jamie frowned. "Stood up?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Slow. Calm. Like he wasn't angry at all."
Lila leaned forward. "Raven-what did he do?"
"He grabbed the guy's hand," I said, my stomach flipping as the memory hit. "Just his fingers. And he twisted them back. Not all at once. One by one."
Jamie's mouth drops. "What the fuck?" His eyes were practically bugging out of his head. "Wait-you're telling me he actually-he twisted the dude's fingers?"
"Yes," I said, nodding, still trembling a little thinking about it. "And the guy's face just... he couldn't even move. And he look so scared everyone in that meeting room was scared,"
Lila covered her mouth. "Oh my God..."
"He couldn't even finish the meeting," I add softly.
They both stop.
"He kept losing his train of thought," I explain. "Cutting himself off mid-sentence. Like whatever that guy did-it did something to him. He couldn't concentrate. It was like... rage. Or possession. Or both."
Jamie stares at me. "That's terrifying."
"And then he just ended it," I say. "Told everyone to get out."
Lila's voice drops. "And you?"
"I stood up to leave too," I say, my heart picking up just remembering it. "And he told me to stay."
Neither of them breathe.
"And then," I say, "he talked to me." I whispered. "Told me to never let anyone treat me like that, that I didn't sit there and take it, that I needed to tell him immediately if anyone did anything wrong. And he made it clear... he would handle it."
Jamie was staring, slack-jawed. "He... he would actually handle it?"
I nodded again. "Yeah. And it wasn't just a warning. The way he looked at me... it was like I couldn't hide anything from him, and he... he made sure that guy knew that if anyone even thought about touching me again, they'd regret it. That was him-he didn't just say it, he made it happen."
Lila shook her head, whispering, "Raven... that's terrifying. And... kind of hot, not gonna lie."
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "Stop saying that! I... I don't even know what to think anymore. He saved me from that same guy tonight, and he... he just... he's..." My voice cracked, and I shook my head. "I don't know how someone can be so scary and... protective at the same time."
Silence.
Pure, stunned silence.
"He was shaking," I add. "Like he was overheating. Like he couldn't breathe."
Lila finally whispers, "Raven... that man is already gone for you."
"And when I asked what he meant," I finish, my heart pounding just like it did then, "he said I was a problem."
Jamie swallows. "Why."
"Because," I say softly, "he doesn't know what to do with me."
They both stare at me.
Jamie finally breaks it. "Bestie... you are in danger."
Lila nods. "And unfortunately," she adds, dead serious, "he's dangerously obsessed."
I sink back into the chair.
"...Yeah," I whisper.
I hesitated.
Like-hesitated hesitated.
My fingers twisted into the edge of the jacket still clutched to my chest, the fabric warm, expensive, him. My voice came out barely louder than a breath.
"So... it got really weird after that."
That was all it took.
Jamie and Lila leaned in at the exact same time-chairs scraping, eyes wide, bodies angled toward me like I was about to drop the most unhinged tea of the century.
Jamie whispered, "When a woman says it got weird... it got WEIRD."
Lila nodded aggressively. "Go on. Slowly. I need details."
I swallowed.
"Okay so-after he told me to get back to work, I did. Obviously. I was confused as hell after the talk we had, but I finished up my shift and-" I paused, heat creeping up my neck. "-before I left the building, I went to his office to tell him I was heading out."
They both waved their hands impatiently.
"Continue," Lila demanded.
"So I knock. Nothing. I open the door a little and it's... dark. Like pitch black. Freezing. And then-"
My voice dropped without me meaning it to.
"I hear him."
Jamie's eyes bulged. "Hear him doing WHAT."
"I didn't know at first!" I snapped. "I just heard this-this sound. Like... a groan."
Lila's mouth fell open.
"No," Jamie whispered. "NO."
"Yes," I whispered back.
I rubbed my arms from under the jacket, goosebumps rising like they had tonight. "Then he says my name."
Both of them froze.
"Like-calling you?" Lila asked carefully.
I shook my head. "No. Like... feeling it."
Jamie slapped the table. "OH MY GOD."
"I thought he thought I was someone else," I rushed on. "So I answered, and then I turned on the lights and-"
I stopped.
Because their faces were already gone.
Jamie was halfway out of his chair. Lila's hand was over her mouth.
"He... he was not okay," I said softly, my voice trembling. "Like... completely fucking wrecked. Shirt half-unbuttoned, chest exposed, tattoos popping, veins-everywhere. His arms-tattooed veins standing out like they were about to burst. His temple veins were so visible, pulsing, like he was about to snap."
I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning as I continued. "And... and he looked at me-first at my chest, then lower-and then... oh god, Jamie, Lila... he says my name. So loud. And he was shaking. Violently. His whole body jerked like... like he couldn't control it."
I blinked, trying to make it less real even as I said it. "And then..." I hesitated, my hands fluttering in the air, trying to explain without saying too much. "...something... white... just flew up from under the desk. I... I didn't know what to do. I... I just froze."
Neither of them blinked.
"...Raven," Jamie said carefully, reaching across the table. "Sweetie. Honey. Baby."
He took my hand.
Firmly.
"I need to hold your hand when I say this."
That alone made my stomach twist. "Why are you grabbing me like that?"
Lila dragged her chair closer, elbows on the table, eyes sharp. "Because whatever the hell you just described? Was not confusion."
Jamie nodded slowly. "It was not stress."
Lila added, "And it was definitely not a panic attack."
I frowned. "Then what was it?"
They looked at each other.
Then back at me.
Jamie inhaled like he was bracing himself. "Okay. So when you said he was shaking-"
"And his hands were moving," Lila cut in.
"And he was saying your name like he was dying," Jamie continued.
"And his eyes rolled back," Lila added flatly.
"And then you said-" Jamie lifted one finger. "-that his eyes dropped to your chest. Then... lower."
My face heated. "I mean-yeah. That happened."
Jamie squeezed my hand. "Raven."
Lila didn't even soften it. "He was touching himself."
I blinked. Once.
"What?"
Jamie winced. "Oh god. She really doesn't know."
Lila leaned forward. "Baby. That man was stroking his cock."
I nearly choked on air. "NO."
Jamie nodded. "Yes."
"That's-no. That's insane," I blurted. "I was literally standing right there."
"Exactly," Lila said. "That's why he lost it."
I shook my head, words tumbling out. "But I hadn't even said anything yet. I just walked in. I was trying to tell him I was leaving."
Jamie let out a low, disbelieving laugh. "That's worse."
"How is that worse?"
"Because," Lila said slowly, "he was already in the middle of a fantasy about you."
My stomach flipped violently. "No."
"Yes," Jamie said. "And then you showed up and finished it."
I stared at him. "Finished what."
Both of them groaned.
"Oh my god," Jamie muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "She's killing me."
Lila's eyes lit up. "WAIT. WAIT. WAIT."
She pointed at me. "You said you saw something white fly up from under the desk."
I nodded hesitantly. "Yeah...? It was really fast. I thought maybe it was dust or-"
Jamie screamed.
Like actually screamed.
He shoved his chair back, pacing. "NOPE. I'M DONE. I'M CLOCKING OUT."
Lila slapped the table, laughing so hard she wheezed. "RAVEN. BABE. THAT WAS NOT DUST."
My face burned. "Then what was it?"
Jamie spun back toward me, eyes wild. "That was his orgasm."
Silence.
Pure.
Absolute.
Soul-leaving-my-body silence.
"...His what."
Lila was crying laughing now. "You walked in on your boss finishing to you."
"I-no-he wouldn't-" I stammered. "He was angry with me earlier when David was locking his feet with mine. He literally yelled at me to leave when I told him I was going home."
Jamie pointed aggressively. "That's because he was embarrassed."
"And turned on," Lila added.
"And furious at himself," Jamie continued.
"And obsessed," Lila finished.
I hugged the jacket tighter around myself, suddenly very aware of his scent again. Leather. Smoke. Something sharp and masculine that absolutely did not belong to me.
"But-" My voice cracked. "Why was he shaking like that? Like he couldn't stop?"
Jamie softened slightly. "Because you're not just a thought to him anymore."
Lila nodded. "You're a trigger."
I swallowed. "He looked... scared."
Jamie's smile faded. "Yeah."
"Because," Lila said quietly, "men like him don't lose control like that."
Jamie squeezed my hand again. "Raven... that man didn't imagine you walking in."
"He needed it."
I whispered, "That's terrifying."
Jamie nodded. "Yeah."
Lila smirked slightly. "And hot."
"LILA!"
"I SAID WHAT I SAID."
I leaned back in my chair, exhausted, overwhelmed, confused beyond words.
"I don't think he even knows what he feels," I admitted. "He looked... wrecked."
Jamie's voice dropped. "Because men like Dominic Derveaux don't fall."
Lila met my eyes. "They crash."
And suddenly, the way he'd shoved the jacket into my hands replayed in my mind.
Keep it.
The way his eyes raked over me when he said it.
The way his hands had been shaking.
The way he told me not to walk into his office unless he told me to.
My stomach sank.
"...Guys," I whispered.
Jamie raised a brow. "Yeah?"
"I think I'm in trouble."
Lila grinned. "Oh, babe."
Jamie finished it for her.
"You already were the moment he said your name like that."
Jamie let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head like he still couldn't believe this was real life.
"Who would've thought," he said, voice dripping with disbelief, "that the big scary mafia boss was stroking his cock over our best friend?"
"JAMIE," I hissed, mortified, slapping his arm.
Lila snorted. "No, no, let him speak. Because that sentence alone is insane."
I shook my head hard, hugging the jacket tighter like it could shield me from the conversation. "No. Absolutely not. You guys are being dramatic."
Jamie raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"He's married," I blurted out. "Like-actually married. I don't think he was doing that for real."
Lila tilted her head. "Raven-"
"And," I rushed on, "he had a hickey on his neck today. An actual hickey. So clearly he was fucking his wife all night long."
Jamie's mouth fell open. "A hickey??"
"Yes!" I said, relieved, like I'd just dropped the final piece of evidence. "So now you're telling me that after fucking his wife last night, he went to his office the next day and started jerking off to my name? I don't believe it."
Lila stared at me for a long second.
Then she laughed. "Oh, you sweet summer child."
Jamie sat back down with his arms crossed. "Babe. Those two things are not mutually exclusive."
"That's disgusting," I said immediately.
Jamie shrugged. "Welcome to powerful men."
I frowned. "You really think so?"
"Yes," both of them said at the same time.
Jamie hesitated, chewing on his lip. "Because I know men like Dominic. Men like him fuck anybody. Anyone they want."
I felt a weird twist in my stomach, a flutter I didn't like. My cheeks warmed, and I shifted slightly, trying to ignore it. "Fair," I muttered, even though my mind wouldn't settle.
I swallowed hard, pushing the feeling down. There was no reason for my heart to be beating faster-none that made sense, anyway.
Lila laughed softly. "That's valid."
I brushed a strand of hair from my face and focused on the table, telling myself it didn't mean anything. It was just... noise. Nothing more.
Jamie leaned forward, suddenly serious. "But Raven. Listen to me."
I looked up.
"A man doesn't threaten to break someone's kneecaps in a boardroom," he said slowly, "because his assistant is just another body."
Lila added, "And he doesn't lose his ability to speak mid-meeting because some guy touched any woman."
I swallowed.
"And," Jamie continued, lowering his voice, "he definitely doesn't spiral so hard that he's shaking, saying your name, and finishing the second you walk in... unless you're already living rent-free in his head."
My chest tightened. "Or he was just stressed."
Lila scoffed. "Stress doesn't make men say your name like a prayer."
Jamie smirked. "Or like a sin."
I groaned, covering my face. "Stopppp."
Jamie pried my hands away gently. "Raven."
"What?"
"That hickey?" he said. "Could mean anything."
Lila nodded. "Could be old. Could be fake. Could be from someone he doesn't even give a shit about."
I frowned. "You don't know that."
Jamie smiled thinly. "But we do know this-"
Lila leaned in, eyes sharp. "He lost control over you."
The room went quiet again.
I stared down at my lap, my fingers twisting in the expensive fabric of his jacket.
"I don't want that," I whispered. "He's my boss. He's dangerous. And he scares the shit out of me."
Jamie softened immediately. "I know, baby."
"But," Lila said carefully, "he also protected you. Repeatedly."
I closed my eyes.
The way Dominic's voice had dropped.
The way his hands shook.
The way he told me not to let anyone touch me.
The way he looked at me like he didn't know whether to burn the world down or run from himself.
Jamie sighed. "You don't have to want it."
Lila nodded. "But you can't pretend it's not happening."
I swallowed hard.
"...What if he regrets it?" I asked quietly. "What if that's why he was so cold after? Like he hated that I saw him like that."
Jamie's expression turned knowing. "Oh, he definitely hates it."
Lila smirked. "Not because of you. Because of what you do to him."
I exhaled shakily.
"Fuck," Jamie muttered. "Our girl broke a mafia boss without even trying."
I glared at him weakly. "I did not."
Jamie grinned. "You absolutely did."
And the worst part?
Deep down, somewhere beneath the denial and fear-
I was starting to believe them.
I shivered, gripping the jacket tighter. "...God. I-he-ugh."
Jamie leaned closer again, voice low, teasing. "Raven... I know he's married. But the man has no self-control where you're concerned. No one does. Especially Dominic Derveaux."
I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "I hate this. I hate knowing this."
"Girl," Lila said, patting my shoulder, "you didn't ask for this. But guess what? You're officially the only one who's ever made Dominic Derveaux... well... lose his goddamn mind."
I peeked at them, wide-eyed. "I... I didn't do anything. I swear."
Jamie smirked, wiggling his brows. "You did, sweetie. You really did."
And the truth? I couldn't deny it. Not really.
Jamie leaned back in his chair. "Also, just saying-his jacket looks ridiculous on you."
I blinked. "Bad ridiculous?"
"No," he grinned. "Hot ridiculous. Like 'small girl swallowed by powerful man' energy."
"Jamie!"
He laughed, dodging Lila's swat. "Too soon, too soon. I know."
I finally let out a shaky breath that turned into something close to a laugh. The tension eased just a fraction.
The plate sat in front of me, warm steam curling up, smelling like home-roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and some buttery vegetables. Lila's voice broke through my haze. "Eat something, Raven."
I picked up the spoon, even though my stomach was too tight to really want it. I forced a bite into my mouth, chewing slowly, tasting the food but not really tasting it. My mind kept replaying everything from the night, and every flavor felt muted, swallowed by the tight knot in my chest.
Lila's eyes stayed on me, soft and careful, like she could feel the storm inside me.
"And Raven?"
I froze for a second, my hand halfway to my mouth.
"I'm really glad you're home."
Something twisted inside me, a mix of relief and exhaustion that made my chest ache. I wanted to believe it, to let myself feel it, but it took everything I had just to swallow the bite in my mouth.
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