Lahat ng Kabanata ng Off Limits : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

CallieThe drive back was quiet.Not awkward.Grayson’s hand stayed on my thigh the entire time, thumb moving in slow strokes. I watched the road blur past the window, my body still humming from the cafe, from the way he’d stepped in front of me without hesitation, from his voice when he said you are mine.It echoed in my chest.When we pulled into the driveway, the house was dark and still. No Mia. No witnesses. Just silence stretching open like an invitation.The door had barely closed behind us before Grayson turned.His gaze swept over me—slow, assessing, intense. Not rushed. Never rushed when he was like this.“You okay?” he asked again, quieter now.I nodded. “I feel… calmer.”His jaw flexed. “Good. Because I need you to always feel safe here.”He stepped closer, crowding my space without touching me yet. I could feel the heat of him, the restraint under his skin.“I don’t like the way she spoke to you,” he continued. “I don’t like that anyone thinks they get an opinion.”My hea

CallieGrayson’s office was quiet. The faint hum of the computer and the distant drone of traffic outside felt amplified, like the world had shrunk to this one room, this one moment.I sank into the chair across from him, hands folded tightly in my lap. My chest was still tight, my adrenaline slowly fading, leaving a trembling residue of fear and uncertainty behind. I hadn’t realized how much the encounter with Jude had shaken me until now.Grayson leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the armrests, fingers steepled together. His gaze never left me.“Talk to me,” he said softly, but the intensity in his eyes made it feel like a command.“I… I hate it,” I admitted, voice small. “I hate feeling like I am not safe, even for a second. Like someone could just… walk in and take that from me.”He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees, every inch of him attentive. “Callie, look at me.”I did.“I won’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever,” he said quietly. “You are mine. And that mea

CallieThe market smelled of fresh bread and citrus, yeast and sugar mingling with the sharp brightness of oranges and lemons. It was the kind of familiar, comforting scent that used to make me feel rooted—like no matter how chaotic life became, some things stayed ordinary. Today, it did nothing.Every step I took across the cracked pavement felt loud. Every shuffle of feet behind me made my spine stiffen. I could feel eyes on my back, imagined or real, it was impossible to tell anymore. Conversations lowered as I passed. Laughter seemed to cut off too abruptly.I told myself I was being paranoid.Still, my grip tightened on the basket in my hands.“Callie!”The sound of my name snapped through me. I turned too quickly, the basket tilting, apples shifting dangerously close to spilling onto the ground.Mrs. Langston stood behind her fruit stand, her smile warm and practiced, the kind she’d worn for decades. But her eyes—sharp, observant—missed nothing. They never had.“Oh! Just gettin

CallieThe door clicked softly behind us, shutting out the lingering chill of Mary’s visit and the subtle echoes of her threats. The bedroom felt suddenly warmer, the shadows deeper. I dropped my bag onto the floor, the sound loud in the silence, and sank onto the edge of the bed, letting myself exhale fully for the first time in hours.Grayson didn’t speak immediately. He simply stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over me with a mixture of intensity and possessive admiration. My pulse picked up just watching him. Every muscle in my body seemed to react to that commanding presence that made the world shrink until it was just the two of us.“Callie,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a shiver through me, grounding me and igniting something deeper at the same time. “You okay?”I nodded, though the word felt hollow compared to the storm inside me. “I… I think so,” I admitted, voice soft.

CallieThe car door clicked shut behind us, leaving the last echoes of the festival and its prying eyes behind. The streets felt quieter now, the sunlight softer, but my body was still humming with the tension of being watched, assessed, exposed. I could feel Grayson’s presence beside me, and I let myself exhale fully.His hand found mine immediately. Every step we took into the house carried the residual heat from the day—Mary’s glare, the whispers, the imagined stares—and yet, under Grayson’s touch, I felt a flicker of safety spark inside me, fragile but real.“Callie,” he murmured softly as we entered the living room. “You have been tense all day. Let me take that from you.”I swallowed, my pulse spiking even at the sound of his voice. The day’s events had left me raw, exposed in a way that made me ache to be claimed, to feel his hands on me in the privacy of our own space. I nodded, wordless, letting him guide me through the familiar hall to the bedroom, each touch a silent assert