Callie
Grayson’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 f
