The silence after Jordan’s last words felt like the world was holding its breath. Brianna stood frozen, her back pressed to the wall, her fingers trembling so violently she had to curl them into fists to hide it.
“Jordan,” she whispered, barely able to summon her voice. “Please. Please spare him from this.”
His head snapped toward her, eyes dark, unforgiving. “Spare him,” he repeated, as if the words themselves offended him.
“Let him stay here,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Let him keep the life he has. He is happy. He is safe. He has friends. He has routines. He knows nothing of your world. He does not need cameras or headlines or boardrooms. He needs peace. Please. Jordan, please.”
He stepped toward her slowly, like a man walking toward a battlefield he did not choose but would w
