The cafeteria doors hadn’t even swung fully shut behind them before the whispers inside turned into a low roar. Phones were already out, thumbs flying, the anonymous thread gaining new comments by the second: Soran Blackwood just dragged the maid out like she’s his property now. Did you see her face? She looked terrified. Or turned on. Pick one.
Soran didn’t slow down.
His grip on Isla’s wrist was firm—borderline bruising—pulling her down the side corridor that led toward the private dorm wings. The hallway was quieter here, the noise of the cafeteria fading into muffled echoes behind thick stone walls. Fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting long shadows that danced across the polished floor.
Isla stumbled once, trying to match his stride. “Soran—slow down. You’re hurting m
