Chapter Five: Wrong Door Again

Caiden looked at her with the same cool patience he probably applied to difficult board meetings. "So," he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers. "What is your final answer, Miss Verne?"

"Still no," she said, making sure every word landed.

He studied her for a long, quiet moment. There was no flash of frustration in his features, no hint of irritation. It was that same unreadable look, like he was weighing her answer and deciding what to do with it.

Then, his voice dropped a fraction. "Your refusal... it has something to do with that night, doesn't it?"

The blood drained from Nadia's face so fast she felt a sudden wave of dizziness. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had known it would surface eventually. But knowing it was coming didn't make it any easier to sit across from him while he brought it out into the open.

She didn't try to deny it. Instead, she gave a single, tight nod.

"I want to clear something up about that night," Caiden continued, his gaze remaining fixed on her face. "My suggestion regarding the surgery was a genuine offer. I meant it as a way to make things right. It seems you took it completely the wrong way."

"I would highly prefer it if you forgot that night entirely, Mr. Wolfe," she said, keeping her voice level through sheer force of will, her jaw clenched. "Whatever your intentions were."

"I have already forgotten it," he countered smoothly. "You're the one who is still carrying it around. That's all this is."

His dark eyes were sharp and steady—the kind of eyes that took in every detail while giving absolutely nothing away.

Nadia looked away first, her chest tightening. "No."

"Since you claim it doesn't bother you, then what exactly is stopping you from tutoring Cullen?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. With the movement, the physical space between them seemed to shrink by degrees, making the room feel entirely too small.

Something snapped loose inside her. She abruptly pushed back her chair and stood up. "No. I already gave you my answer. Do I really need to repeat myself again, Mr. Wolfe?"

Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and her eyes shone with anger—the unmistakable look of someone who had run completely out of patience and had stopped pretending otherwise. A subtle shift crossed Caiden's face, lightning-fast, there and gone before she could decode it.

"It seems Miss Verne is getting a little worked up," he noted quietly.

"And what if I am?" she shot back. "I am not tutoring Cullen. I have a lecture block this afternoon, and I am leaving right now."

She snatched her bag and marched toward the door. She had barely made it two steps when the heavy door swung open from the outside, and Cullen walked in, taking in the thick tension in the room in a single glance.

Caiden set his wine glass down with a soft click. "Since Miss Verne has declined, don't push her any further. Have the driver take her back to the academy."

Cullen looked directly at Nadia, his brow furrowing with genuine disappointment. "Why didn't you agree?"

"I have too much on my plate right now, Cullen, and simply not enough time," she explained, her tone softening as much as her frayed composure would allow. "I'm sorry."

Without giving either of them a chance to respond, she stepped past him and hurried out of the private room.

Behind her, Caiden rose from his seat. He was nearly at the exit when he noticed Cullen still planted firmly in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the door Nadia had just walked through with the distinct expression of someone plotting mischief.

"Aren't you coming?" Caiden asked.

Cullen turned around, and a wide, slow grin gradually spread across his face. "Caiden... I can make her agree. Just watch me." He straightened his jacket, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Besides, I've got too much on my plate, too. No time for school."

Caiden stared at his younger brother for exactly one second, checked his watch, and walked out toward the waiting Bentley without another word.

Back at the academy, Nadia had barely dropped her bag onto her desk before the principal's assistant materialized at her door.

She ended up spending the next twenty-five minutes trapped in the principal's office, listening to him circle the exact same subject from every imaginable angle. *Mr. Wolfe. The meeting. How did it go? What did you discuss? Was everything handled with the utmost care?* Her stomach had been growling since noon, and she was running out of patience for the conversation.

When she finally stood up to leave, the principal called after her, his tone pointed. "Miss Verne, please do ensure that young Cullen Wolfe's academic progress remains your absolute priority."

She forced a polite smile, said nothing, and pulled the door shut behind her.

The seat by the window in the back row remained empty for three days straight.

Cullen Wolfe’s seat.

She tried calling his number, but a cheerful, automated voice informed her that the line was currently busy and invited her to try again later. The first time, she actually redialed. By the fourth time the call went straight to voicemail, she stopped kidding herself. He was actively avoiding her. He was eighteen years old, yet he was throwing a tantrum with the dramatic commitment of a toddler.

She knew exactly what he was doing. She had said no to the tutoring gig, and this was her punishment: a stubborn teenager refusing to show up to class.

But final exams were in two days, and he absolutely had to sit them.

Losing her patience, Nadia pulled out the official student register, located his residential address, and saved it to her phone. Marching out to the school gates, she flagged down a passing taxi.

"Sunrise Heights Estate, please," she told the driver.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. "Sunrise Heights? Those luxury properties don't come cheap, miss."

"I'm just visiting someone," she replied quietly.

She had heard of the exclusive estate before but had never actually been there. Thirty minutes later, the taxi pulled up to a massive set of security gates that opened onto the kind of pristine grounds that instantly explained why people paid millions to live there. The air was crisp and shockingly clean. Perfectly manicured hedges lined the paths, and the faint, relaxing sound of a fountain echoed somewhere out of sight.

Following the address on her phone, she made her way to Building Three, located the unit number, and came to a halt.

The front door was unlatched. It wasn't wide open, just cracked an inch—the kind of gap that could mean anything from an incoming delivery to sheer carelessness.

She double-checked the apartment number on her screen. Satisfied, she gently pushed the door open and stepped inside into the quiet foyer.

She made it three steps before freezing.

The muffled sounds from down the hall hit her before her eyes could even adjust to the dim lighting. It was a woman's voice, low and breathless, followed by a man's deeper murmur, and between the two of them lay a heavy, charged silence that was anything but quiet.

The realization hit her like ice water down her spine. Every single protective instinct she possessed screamed at her to turn around and sprint out of the apartment immediately.

She pivoted sharply to flee.

But in her haste, the toe of her shoe caught the edge of a heavy metal umbrella bin near the entrance. It went toppling over, hitting the hard floor with a loud, metallic clatter that echoed through the apartment like a gunshot.

Nadia went entirely rigid, her breath catching.

"Hey," Cullen's voice called out from somewhere deeper down the hallway. "Did something just fall out there?"

A suffocating beat of silence followed. Then, a second voice echoed through the wall—low, unhurried, and laced with a dangerous, familiar edge.

"If you can't stay quiet, get out."

Nadia stood frozen in the entryway of what was very clearly the wrong apartment, staring desperately at the front door she needed to escape through, with only one terrifying thought looping in her mind.

*Not again.*