CHAPTER 5 HE IS BACK

(Lara’s POV)

I take the papers from Kyle’s desk with hands that won’t stop shaking, humiliation burns through my chest like an acid, spreading through every nerve until I feel like I’m on fire.

He has noticed my bruises. He won’t let go easily, he might know.

The thoughts make me want to crawl out of my skin.

I hated that he noticed. Hate that there was a moment… just one brief, fleeting second, when his dark, husky voice whispered in my ears….it felt so hot.

He is my boyfriend’s brother.

I walk out of his office and sit back down at my desk, my knees trembling so hard I barely make it to my chair. Despite the heavy shame weighing on me, a massive wave of relief washes over my tired body. I still have my job. I am not fired. I still have a chance to earn money and keep the cheap motel room I hid in last night.

I try to type an email, but my screen blurs. I am too distracted to focus on work. My ribs ache from where Maxton hit me, and my heart pounds with constant dread.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes on the desk. Then it buzzes again. And again.

I look down and see a stream of text messages lighting up the screen. They are all from Maxton.

where are you?

answer your phone right now, Lara.

I am sorry about last night, baby. I was just stressed. Come home.

you think you can hide from me? You are nothing without me.

if you don't answer me in five minutes, you are going to regret it.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I wipe them away fast. I flip my phone face down on the wood. I spend the rest of the afternoon staring at spreadsheets, typing the wrong numbers, and jumping every time someone walks past my desk. The hours drag by like thick mud.

At exactly 5 PM, the office starts to empty out. I pack my small bag, grab my keys, and take the elevator down to the underground parking garage. The garage is dim, lit only by buzzing overhead lights that cast long, scary shadows against the concrete walls. The air smells like car exhaust and old dampness.

I walk quickly toward my old sedan, my heels clicking loudly on the floor. But as I get closer, my heart drops into my stomach.

Maxton is standing there. He is leaning against the driver's side door, blocking my car completely. He wears a casual jacket, his dark hair messy, his jaw set in a hard line.

"Maxton," I gasp, taking a step back. "How did you get in here?"

He smiles, but his eyes are cold and empty. "I told you, Lara. I always know where you are. Why didn't you answer my texts today?"

"I was working," I say, my voice shaking despite my best effort to sound strong. "Please move away from my car. I want to leave."

He takes a slow step toward me, holding his hands up like he is trying to calm a scared animal. "Baby, listen to me. I am so sorry about what happened at the apartment. I had too much whiskey to drink. You know I love you, right? I was just scared you were leaving me."

"You hit me, Maxton," I whisper, wrapping my arms around my chest. "You celebrated when I lost our baby. I heard you talking on the phone."

His fake, gentle smile drops instantly. His face turns red, and his expression twists into ugly rage.

"You had no right snooping on my phone calls!" he snaps, stepping closer until I can smell the stale tobacco on his clothes. "You belong in my apartment. You are my girlfriend. You're mine, Lara. Do you hear me? You don't get to just walk away."

"We are over," I say, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Let me get into my car!"

I try to push past him to reach the door handle, but Maxton reaches out and grabs my arm. His fingers dig hard into my skin—right over the dark purple bruises he gave me days ago.

A sharp cry of pain escapes my mouth. "Let go of me! You're hurting me!"

"I'll show you what really hurts, you ungrateful bitch!" he yells. He pulls me back hard and raises his closed fist in the air, ready to strike my face.

I squeeze my eyes shut and raise my free hand to cover my head, waiting for the heavy blow to land.

But the hit never comes.

A tall, dark shadow moves fast out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, a large, strong hand catches Maxton’s wrist in mid-swing, stopping his fist completely in the air.

I open my eyes. It is Kyle.

He stands there in his tailored black suit, his tall frame towering over Maxton. Kyle’s face is calm, but his dark eyes burn with a terrifying, icy rage.

"If you touch her again," Kyle says, his voice low and deadly quiet, "I will break your arm in three places."

Maxton gasps, trying to pull his arm free, but Kyle’s grip is like an iron cage.

"Kyle!" Maxton spits out, his face contorting with pure hatred. "What the hell are you doing here? This is between me and my girlfriend! Stay out of my business!"

"She is my employee," Kyle replies smoothly, not letting go. "And you are trespassing on my private property."

"You always do this to me!" Maxton screams, spit flying from his mouth as his deep resentment boils over. "You always take everything! You took my father's love away from me! You stole the family company that belonged to me! And now you want to take Lara, too?"

Kyle doesn't waste time arguing with him. He just moves.

With a controlled, frightening speed, Kyle twists Maxton's arm and punches him hard in the jaw. Maxton stumbles back, cursing loudly, and tries to swing back at his stepbrother. But Kyle is too fast, too efficient. He dodges Maxton's wild hit and lands two brutal, heavy blows to Maxton's stomach and chest.

Maxton drops to his knees on the hard concrete, gasping for air and coughing up blood. Kyle stands over him, adjusting his suit jacket, barely breathing hard.

Running footsteps echo through the garage. Three building security guards rush around the corner.

"Mr. Morrison! Are you okay?" one guard yells to Kyle.

"Get this garbage out of my building," Kyle orders coldly, pointing down at Maxton. "If he ever comes near this property or Miss Howard again, call the police immediately."

The guards grab Maxton by his arms and drag him away across the floor. Maxton struggles against them, kicking his feet and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"You're dead, Kyle! Do you hear me? I am going to kill you! And you, little slut! You will beg me to take you back, and if you don't, then I will make sure you never breathe!"

His death threats echo off the concrete walls until the guards drag him through the heavy exit doors and slam them shut.

The garage falls completely silent. I stand there, shivering from head to toe, holding my throbbing arm.

Kyle turns slowly to look at me. His dark eyes drop to my mouth, then rise to my eyes. Standing this close to him, I can feel the heat radiating off his body. 

His dark hair is slightly out of place, and looking at his strong hands that just protected me sends a sudden, hot thrill straight down my spine.

 A steamy, undeniable spark crackles in the heavy air between us, making my breath hitch in my throat. It is wrong, but he looks so handsome, with all his sweat and a cuffed shirt.

"Get in my car," Kyle says, pointing toward a sleek, black luxury sedan parked a few spaces away.

"What? Why?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I have my car."

"You are in no condition to drive, and he knows what you drive," Kyle says bluntly, offering no further explanation. "Get in the car, Lara. Now."