Chapter Twenty-Three
The elevator ride up to Stefan’s penthouse office was nothing short of excruciating. The silent tension between us had thickened over the past few days. It wasn’t the kind of silence that was comfortable, but the kind that made the air feel heavy, oppressive. Stefan hadn’t spoken much to me, except for a few sharp commands or questions that he expected to be answered with precision.
The ride from his mansion had been equally strained. Stefan had insisted on driving me to work, despite my protests that I could take a cab, or better yet, drive myself. But he’d been adamant, making it clear that he had no intention of letting me out of his sight. Not that I minded. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be away from him for too long, even if his presence grated on me. It was like I was caught between the intense pull of his dominance and the resentment I still harbored toward him for orchestrating my life in the way he had.
As the elevator doors slid open, I followed him down the
