Chapter Seven
1067 Words
Hazel didn’t sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt hands on her wrist again. Heard the scrape of a car door. Saw the calm look on Ares’s face as if nothing in the world could touch him.
Her phone buzzed at six a.m.
ARES:
Get dressed. I’m outside.
Her heart dropped.
HAZEL:
Outside where?
ARES:
Your building.
She sat up, panic rising.
HAZEL:
I didn’t agree to this.
Three dots appeared.
ARES:
You agreed when you stayed.
She stared at the screen, then at her door.
A knock followed seconds later.
Soft. Controlled.
Hazel pulled on a jacket and opened the door.
Ares stood there like he belonged—dark coat, composed expression, eyes already assessing her.
“You look tired,” he said.
“You scared me,” she replied.
He stepped inside without asking. “That will happen less if you listen.”
Her chest tightened. “You can’t just show up.”
“I can,” he said calmly. “And I will.”
She swallowed. “Why are you here?”
“To move you,” he replied.
Her pulse spiked. “Move me where?”
“Somewhere safer.”
“No,” Hazel said immediately. “I’m not leaving my home.”
Ares studied her. “You don’t understand what last night started.”
“I understand enough,” she snapped. “You’re taking control without asking.”
“Yes,” he said. “Because asking wastes time.”
She hugged herself. “I won’t disappear for you.”
“You won’t disappear at all,” he replied. “That’s the point.”
He held out his phone. On the screen was a photo.
Her building.
Taken from across the street.
Her breath caught. “When was that taken?”
“This morning,” Ares said. “Before you woke up.”
Fear flooded her veins.
“You’re being watched,” he continued. “And not by amateurs.”
Hazel’s voice shook. “So what—you keep me locked away?”
“No,” he said. “I keep you visible only to me.”
That didn’t sound better.
They drove in silence.
Hazel sat rigid in the passenger seat, hands clenched in her lap. The city blurred past, familiar streets giving way to quieter ones.
Finally, the car slowed.
A tall building came into view. Clean lines. Security at the entrance. Cameras she could see—and probably many she couldn’t.
“Is this your place?” she asked.
“One of them,” Ares replied.
Her stomach twisted. “I’m not your guest.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re under my protection.”
She scoffed. “That’s not a choice.”
“It is,” he said. “Just not one you like.”
Inside, the apartment was calm. Neutral colors. Wide windows. Too perfect.
Hazel stood near the door, unsure where to put herself.
“These are the rules,” Ares said, setting his phone down.
She stiffened. “Rules?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You listen.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t take orders.”
He met her gaze evenly. “You take precautions.”
He held up one finger. “You don’t leave alone.”
Another finger. “You don’t answer unknown calls.”
Another. “You tell me where you are. Always.”
Hazel’s chest felt tight. “That’s surveillance.”
“That’s survival,” Ares replied.
“And if I say no?”
His expression didn’t change. “Then I double security and restrict movement.”
Her heart pounded. “You’re not even pretending I have a say.”
“You do,” he said. “You can make this harder.”
She laughed weakly. “That’s not much of a choice.”
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s the only one that keeps you alive.”
Silence fell.
Finally, Hazel asked quietly, “How long?”
Ares hesitated.
“That depends,” he said.
“On what?”
“On whether they try again.”
Her breath hitched. “And if they do?”
Ares’s voice dropped. “Then I stop being patient.”
Later, Hazel stood by the window, staring at the city below.
She felt trapped.
But she also felt—safe.
That frightened her more.
Ares watched her from across the room.
“You’re angry,” he said.
“Yes,” she replied without turning around.
“Good,” he said. “Anger keeps you sharp.”
She finally faced him. “You’re not doing this because you care.”
“No,” he admitted. “I’m doing this because you’re a risk.”
Her eyes stung. “That’s honest, at least.”
A beat passed.
Then he added, “But risks can be protected.”
Her chest tightened at the way he said it.
Ares’s phone buzzed.
He checked it once, then his jaw tightened.
“What?” Hazel asked.
“They moved faster than expected,” he said.
Her pulse spiked. “Who?”
He looked at her. “The people from last night.”
Fear crawled up her spine. “What do they want?”
Ares didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he said, “We’re changing plans.”
Her voice shook. “To what?”
He met her gaze.
“You’re going public,” he said. “With me.”
Her breath caught. “Public how?”
“As mine,” Ares replied. “In a way they can’t touch.”
Her heart raced. “That’s insane.”
“It’s strategic,” he said.
“I didn’t agree to that,” she whispered.
“No,” he said softly. “But you will.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want this.”
Ares stepped closer—not touching, but close enough that she could feel his presence.
“I know,” he said. “Neither did I.”
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She stared at it.
Ares’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t answer,” he said.
The phone buzzed again.
A message appeared.
Unknown:
Protection only works if you stay where you belong.
Hazel’s hands trembled.
Ares took the phone gently from her.
“They’re impatient,” he said.
Her voice broke. “What do we do?”
Ares met her eyes.
“We remind them,” he said calmly,
“that you’re not alone.”
- Writer
