Aria Pov
The statement rang in my ear.
“Stop.”
One quiet word, spoken with the same controlled authority he used in the boardroom, yet it landed heavier than it should have. I stood frozen with my hand still on the door handle, the corridor stretching empty behind me. Why would he say I should stop? The supermarket request from Victoria still sat unfinished in my mind, practical and ordinary, but the way he had spoken made the ordinary feel suddenly dangerous.
I turned back and looked at him.
Alexander stood near his desk, posture straight, expression unreadable. The city light behind him outlined the sharp lines of his shoulders. He did not move closer. He simply watched me with that same steady intensity I had felt in the hotel when he first told me to open my mouth.
“Sit,” he sai
