Chapter 3

‎Claire felt a chill crawl down her spine as she heard his cold, calculated tone. It wasn’t just the words; it was the way they were delivered, as if they were meant to cut through her defenses. Her instincts screamed at her to retreat, to run, but she stood her ground, at least physically. She took a step back, feeling her pulse quicken as his presence seemed to press in on her, suffocating her in a way she couldn’t explain.

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‎"Pervert, don’t move any closer," she snapped, her voice unwavering, though a flicker of anxiety threatened to betray her calm facade. "If you do, you won’t like what I’ll do to you." The words came out sharp and cold, but inside, her heart was hammering. She was more terrified than she cared to admit. His presence alone was enough to make her want to run, but she refused to let him see the fear she was battling.

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‎Edward stopped, his gaze locking with hers. For a moment, his eyes studied her with an intensity that made her stomach twist. His lips curled into a slow, mocking smirk. "I want to know what you're capable of," he said, his voice smooth as velvet, but carrying an edge that sent a wave of unease through her. Without breaking eye contact, he took a step forward again, moving with a predator's grace, circling her like a wolf closing in on prey.

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‎Claire’s pulse raced as she instinctively looked around, hoping for some kind of help. She scanned the street, empty. No one in sight. She was alone. Completely alone. Panic flickered in her chest. "What... What are you doing?" she stammered, her voice slightly trembling now. She was no longer sure whether it was the cold wind or his presence that was making her shiver. "Please, stop... anyone could see us."

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‎But no one was around. Her hope of a timely rescue evaporated with every second that passed. Her body was rigid, tense with fear, but her pride kept her rooted to the spot. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of watching her run.

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‎"Scared, are we?" Edward’s voice was low, amused. He stepped even closer, until the space between them was barely more than a hair’s breadth. The way he watched her, eyes glinting with a dangerous curiosity, made her feel exposed, vulnerable. "You should’ve thought twice before you annoyed me," he said smugly, his breath warm against her cheek as he towered over her.

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‎Claire’s jaw clenched, but she refused to let her face betray her fear. She could feel it bubbling beneath the surface, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. Her anger surged, a desperate need to protect her dignity against the force of his taunting gaze. "Don’t think I’m afraid of you," she spat, despite the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

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‎Edward’s eyes gleamed with something that bordered on admiration. He’d never quite encountered anyone like her before, someone who could look him in the eye and act as if she wasn’t crumbling inside. It intrigued him. Fascinated him. He found it... endearing. Maybe it was the anger in her voice, the fire in her eyes, or maybe it was the way she tried to hide the vulnerability creeping into her posture. Whatever it was, he couldn’t resist pushing her further. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You’re brave," he said, his tone smooth, almost gentle. "But it won’t protect you."

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‎The words hung in the air like a threat, but it was the way he said them, so composed, so utterly confident, that made Claire’s stomach churn. He was playing with her, savoring every moment of the tension between them. And for some reason, she hated how much she felt drawn to that calm, unshakable demeanor of his. It was as if he was daring her to make a mistake, to show her fear, and every fiber of her being screamed not to give him that satisfaction.

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‎But she wasn’t going to break. Not now.

‎She took a deep breath, her chest rising as she tried to steady her nerves. The cool air felt refreshing, but the overwhelming scent of his cologne lingered, wrapping around her like a velvet cloud. She inhaled involuntarily, drawn to it, her body betraying her with every breath. The heady mix of cedarwood and something deeper, more magnetic, stirred something inside her that was impossible to ignore. A thought flickered in her mind,risky, reckless even, but it had already planted itself there: she needed to leave. Her interview was fast approaching, and if she didn’t hurry, she’d already be late... if she wasn’t late already.

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‎The tension between them was palpable, like the air before a storm. Claire managed to force a smile, her fingers itching with the need to bridge the distance between them. “You look handsome, you know that?” she said, her voice light, teasing, as her hands slowly snaked up his broad chest. Her fingers grazed the back of his neck before pulling him closer, looping her arm around him with a quiet confidence.

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‎His reaction was immediate, and not at all what she had expected.

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‎"What are you doing?" he rasped, his voice thick with a rawness that sent a shiver down her spine. His body went rigid beneath her touch, and she could feel the subtle tension in his muscles, like a coiled spring ready to snap. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to hold himself together. This... was new. The way her fingers brushed against him made his breath catch, his pulse quickening as something deep within him stirred—a need, a desire that he had long suppressed. His body hated being touched, anyone's touch. But hers... hers was different. Electric. It awakened something primal within him, something he couldn’t control, something dangerous.

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‎She didn’t answer, her eyes glinting with a quiet mischief. Her fingers traced the curve of his neck, following the sharp line of his jaw to his face, her touch soft, deliberate. She could see his muscles tighten, the struggle in his expression, and it made her smile, just faintly. He was distracted, lost in his own conflict, and it gave her the window she needed. Escape was still possible... if she moved quickly enough. But what she didn’t know, what she couldn’t possibly have foreseen, was that her touch had unlocked something deep inside edward something far darker and far older than either of them realized. A demon that had been caged for decades, now stirring awake from a long slumber.

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‎“Don’t play this game with me,” he said, his voice dangerously low, like gravel being ground underfoot. His hands tremble slightly, gripped her wrist with a force that was almost painful, but there was something else in his eyes, something darker, more possessive.

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‎“You’re not up to my standard.” His words were like a warning, but his actions betrayed him. He was trying to push her hands away, his body fighting the urge to pull her in closer, to let the heat between them consume him. His control was slipping, if he let her linger any longer, if he allowed the touch to go on... he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.