Nayana
I ran. I actually ran.
After Leo ended that call, the promise in his voice shot straight down my spine and convinced my feet to move before my brain even caught up. One moment I was staring at the phone, the next I was tearing down the long hallway of this ridiculous mansion, practically tripping over my own legs in my desperation to get as far away as possible.
I darted up the first staircase I saw, then another, then somehow ended up on the third floor without even remembering how many turns I took. This place is too big. Too wide. Too unnecessarily complicated. The kind of house a sane person would get lost in even without being chased by a six-foot-three possessive mafia king with a voice that can melt and terrify at the same time. It’s not my fault he decided to build a man
