EVE.
I rushed into the bathroom as soon as we arrived at the hotel. God, the door hadn't even clicked shut behind me before I let out a long exhale. I couldn't believe the kind of air I had been holding back. I was breathing through a straw, and I think my lungs were ready to sue me for emotional damage.
I was feeling suffocated throughout the entire flight.
Saint kept his eyes on me the whole time without even as much as looking away for more than a second. The same way he kept looking at me on our first night together.
And Saint's stare isn't just a stare.
It's a scalpel.
It cuts, peels, and probes.
It digs into your skin, peels back your dignity, and quietly whispers to your shame, "You’re next.”
His looks had a way of degrading someone and stripping them of every shred of confi
