Chapter Twenty-Two
Stefan stood at the head of the long dining table, a sleek folder in his hand and his phone pressed against his ear. His voice was a low rumble, sharp with authority as he dictated terms to someone on the other end of the line. It had become routine to see him like this—commanding, decisive, every bit the ruthless billionaire I had always imagined him to be.
I sat quietly at the other end of the table, pushing around a few bites of fruit, while my mind wandered. The mansion was gorgeous, yes, but it also felt vast and isolating. Stefan had ensured I had everything I needed: clothes, food, security, medical attention.
Yet something in me felt restless.
“You’re staring,” Stefan’s voice cut through my thoughts as he hung up the phone and turned to me.
I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just thinking.”
He arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching with a knowing smirk. “About what? You look like you’re planning an escape.”
I shot him a glare. “Not everything is about you, Ste
