Ivy's POV
“Because I know you,” he growls, standing. He moves like a panther—slow, lethal, terrifyingly hot. “You walk in here like a kicked puppy, and your eyes are bloodshot. Either you’re hungover, or something’s wrong. Which is it?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, stepping back as he approaches.
Bad move.
His hand catches my wrist. Gentle but firm.
“Don’t lie to me, little girl.”
Fuck.
My legs threaten to buckle.
“I…” My throat dries. “I might be… late. My period. I’m late.”
The silence is deafening. The shift in his face? Terrifying.
He lets go of my wrist like it burned him. Takes one step back, two. His jaw flexes, chest rising slow and hard.
“How late.”
“Five days.”
“You took a test?”
“No. I haven’t… I was going to—”
“I’ll send the driver.” He cuts me off like he’s giving orders
