Landon stood at the stove, his back to her, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His hair was slightly messed up, and he was shirtless.Because, of course, he was.Daphne stared at the sculpted muscles of his broad shoulders and gulped.Memories of them coupling that night came flooding back. Her body tingled at the thought of those hands all over her again.“I’m not hungry,” she lied, even as her stomach betrayed her with a low growl.She was also hungry for something else entirely.He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Your stomach disagrees.” He gestured toward the small wooden table where two plates waited. “Sit. You need to eat.”Daphne remained in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t take orders from you.”Landon turned fully now, spatula in hand, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “It’s not an order. It’s breakfast.” He slid a perfect golden pancake onto a waiting plate. “And you lost a lot of b
Daphne turned away from him sharply, hoping he didn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. Her body ached, but it wasn’t the pain that made her want to scream—it was the way his words cracked something in her that she’d worked so hard to keep sealed.She didn’t want to believe him. Didn’t want to believe in anything other than the rules Father had carved into her skin and soul: feelings are weakness. Attachment is death. Vulnerability is a luxury for people who don’t live in cages with golden locks.But Landon… damn him. He looked at her like she was more than a weapon. Like she wasn’t something broken beyond repair.She couldn’t stand it.“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, her voice low and shaking. “Like I’m some wounded animal you want to fix.”“I’m not trying to fix you.”“Liar.”She heard him shift behind her but he didn’t step closer. “I’m not. I just… want you to know you don’t have to fight every minute you’re awake.”She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.
Landon stood just outside the door, his back pressed lightly against the cool wood. He could hear her breathing slow, the subtle shift from guarded alertness to tentative rest. For a moment, he let himself breathe too.He glanced down at his hands, still stained faintly from earlier struggles—both physical and emotional. Taking care of Daphne wasn’t just about the wounds on her ribs. It was about the cracks he could see beneath her tough exterior, the quiet battles no one else knew she fought.The doctor would be here soon, but Landon knew this was only the beginning. He needed to earn her trust. And trust was something Daphne didn’t seem to give freely.He didn’t expect her to let her guard down quickly, and he wasn’t going to push. She had every right to be cautious, especially of him.But for tonight, she was safe.He pushed himself off the door and walked to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the gas burner. The blue flame flickered to life, casting dancing
Landon didn’t press her further. Instead, he stood slowly and extended a hand.“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You need rest.”Daphne stared at his hand, stubbornness flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t argue. She took it, and he helped her up with a careful grip, mindful of her injuries. She leaned into him without meaning to, her strength slipping more than she cared to admit.He led her down a narrow hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath their steps. At the end was a small bedroom, sparsely furnished with a simple bed, a dresser, and thick, heavy curtains drawn tight across the window. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, from a sachet tucked between the pillows.Landon pushed the door open and guided her inside.“You’ll be safe here,” he murmured. “Clean sheets, warm blankets. You’ll sleep better than you have in weeks.”“I don’t sleep well anywhere,” Daphne muttered, wincing as she sat on the edge of the bed.He knelt again, checking the blood
Landon’s car was parked just beyond the tree line, blending into the shadows. He adjusted his grip on Daphne as she stirred weakly, her breath hot against his neck.“I can walk now,” she murmured.“Sure you can,” he muttered, not slowing.She didn’t argue again.When they reached the car, he opened the passenger door with one hand and gently lowered her into the seat. She winced, her fingers gripping the edge of the dashboard as she fought back a sound of pain.Landon shut the door quietly, then circled to the driver’s side. Once inside, he started the engine and pulled away from the warehouse without a glance back.For a long stretch of road, silence hung between them, thick and jagged.“You really tracked me down?” Daphne finally asked, voice hoarse.He nodded. “Didn’t exactly leave a breadcrumb trail, but I had help.”She looked out the window, face pale in the dashboard lights. “Why would you do that?”“Because I knew you would be in danger once your…um…employer found out that I w
Nico rolled up Daphne’s sleeve with care, almost mockingly gentle as if administering medicine rather than preparing to torture her.Father stepped back, observing the needle poised above Daphne’s skin. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, his expression hardening into something even colder.“Looks like I can’t stay and join in the fun,” he announced, tucking the phone away. His gaze swept over Daphne, clinical and detached. “I’ve wasted enough time on this disappointment. Nico, Diego—she’s yours to play with. Do as you wish. Just make sure there’s enough left to serve as a reminder to the others.”He adjusted his cufflinks, not even looking at her now. “When you’re finished, dispose of what remains. I don’t care how.”The door clanged shut behind him, the sound echoing through the warehouse like a death knell.Diego’s face split into a grin as he stepped closer. “Finally. Been waiting for this opportunity for years.”“Don’t damage her face too much,” Nico said, rolling the