Too close

Anastasia’s POV

Someone had been standing outside my bedroom.

The image from the security footage kept replaying in my head, the hooded figure moving through the corridor, the internal access card in their hand, and the way they had stopped outside my door as if they had been checking whether I was inside. I sat on the edge of the bed while the compound shifted into lockdown around me. Doors were being secured, men were moving through the corridors, and radios crackled with updates, yet none of it made me feel safer.

If someone inside Black Vipers could get that close without being noticed, what exactly were these walls protecting me from?

A knock sounded. Before I could answer, Jaxon opened the door.

His expression was controlled, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. He looked like he’d spent the last hour carrying the weight of everything that had gone wrong.

“Pack your things.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Your room is being moved.” The irritation I’d been trying to suppress finally surfaced.

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

He stepped farther into the room, his gaze briefly sweeping over the windows and the adjoining wall as though he were already assessing every possible entrance.

“The person on that footage was outside your door Anastasia. Until we know who they are, I’m not leaving you at the far end of the compound.”

I stood.

“So you’re moving me closer to you.”

“Across the hall.”

“That isn’t exactly making your intentions less obvious.”

His eyes settled on me.

“This isn’t about intentions.”

“Everything with you becomes about security.” I folded my arms. “Where I sleep, where I go, who I talk to, whether I leave the compound. You keep making decisions for me and calling it protection.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t raise his voice.

“Because someone is trying to kill you.”

“I know that.”My voice cracked before I could stop it. Tears had already gathered my eyes but I refused to let them fall. “I know, Jaxon. I know someone broke into my home. I know I’ve been watched. I know my mother’s secrets have dragged me into a world I don’t understand, and now there’s possibly a traitor inside this club.” I took a breath, forcing myself to steady it. “What I don’t know is how much control I’m going to have left when this is over.”

Something shifted in his expression. For once, he didn’t immediately argue. Instead, he looked at me with an intensity that made the room suddenly feel smaller.

“I’m trying to keep you alive,” he said softly. It wasn't a demand. It was a raw, aching plea.

"I know you are," I admitted, looking down at my trembling hands before forcing myself to meet his gaze again. "But being kept alive shouldn't mean losing every piece of who I am to your rules."

"I know," he murmured.

The quiet concession caught me off guard. Jaxon never yielded. He cleared his throat, stepping back toward the open doorway. "Come with me."

I followed him through the corridor to a room only a few doors from his. It was smaller than the one I’d been using, but comfortable enough, with a bed beneath the window and a dresser against the opposite wall. I stepped inside and looked around.

"You had this prepared already," I realized, stepping into the space.

"The moment I left the security room."

A faint, breathless curve touched my lips despite the dread hanging over us. "You really don't waste time, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you."

The statement fell heavily between us, unscripted and stripped of his usual defensive professionalism. My heart did a violent, dangerous flip against my ribs. The delicate atmosphere shifted instantly, suffocatingly intimate.

I turned fully to face him, swallowing the thick lump in my throat. "Why?"

He stilled, his eyes searching my face.

"Why do you care this much?" I whispered, taking a slow step toward him. "You made a promise to Clara. I get that. But a dead woman's wish doesn't explain the way you look at me. It doesn't explain why you're putting your life on the line every single hour. You could have handed me off to a safehouse. You could have assigned a team of guards and walked away."

I took another step, closing the space between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. "Instead, you stand in front of every bullet meant for me."

Jaxon's expression guarded over, though a storm raged behind his eyes. "I owed your mother my life."

"That's a shield, Jaxon. Answer the question."

He remained silent, his breath coming a little faster, his dark gaze dropping to my mouth before rising back to my eyes. The unspoken truth hung in the air, thick and terrifyingly magnetic, but he refused to give it voice.

Finally, he looked away, breaking the spell. "You need to rest."

A quiet, mournful laugh escaped me. "You're infuriating."

"So I've been told," he murmured, a shadow of a smirk catching the edge of his lips. He turned toward the door, hesitating at the threshold.

"Jaxon."

He stopped, turning back. I was standing right there.

For several agonizing seconds, neither of us moved. Then, as if drawn by a pull he could no longer fight, he closed the distance between us. He stopped so close I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Anastasia," he rasped, his voice thick with restraint.

"I think you're the one fighting it."

His mouth twitched, a quiet tension humming between us. "You're impossibly stubborn."

"Look who's talking."

His eyes softened, dropping all pretense of the cold commander. Slowly, reverently, he lifted his hand. His calloused fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from my cheek, his touch surprisingly, agonizingly gentle. The electric warmth of his skin against mine sent a shiver straight down my spine, stealing the air right out of my lungs.

His fingertips lingered against my jaw for one terrifying, beautiful second.

Then, reality seemed to crash back over him. His eyes flared with sudden panic, and he yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned, taking a wide step backward into the cold hallway.

"I... I should go," he stammered, his usual composure completely shattered.

I nodded mutely, my skin still tingling where he had touched me. "Goodnight, Jaxon."

"Goodnight, Anastasia."

The door closed. I stood there for a moment, staring at it. I shouldn’t have cared about what had just happened.

But I did.

And that was becoming a problem. I finally changed and climbed into bed, but sleep refused to settle over me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hooded figure outside my door, then Jaxon’s hand against my cheek, and somehow the two memories felt equally unsettling. I must have drifted off eventually. When I woke, the room was dark. Something beneath my pillow pressed against my cheek. I frowned and reached underneath it. My fingers closed around a folded piece of paper. I sat up slowly. There was no name on the outside. No explanation.

Just a note that someone had deliberately placed beneath my pillow while I slept. My pulse quickened as I unfolded it. Three words stared back at me.

YOUR FATHER IS STILL ALIVE.