chapter 9
1225 Words
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Charles didn’t speak for a long time.
The photo still hovered between them on the screen, Lana’s nervous profile angled toward Kamal like she was unsure if she should be speaking—or running. But she had spoken. That much was clear.
Daisy tried to read his expression.
Not anger. Not exactly. It was something colder. A kind of internal lockdown. She’d seen it once before—on a man right before he broke a glass in his hand without flinching.
“Charles,” she said softly. “Say something.”
He looked at her then, eyes hard. “You were right. She gave you up.”
Daisy folded her arms tightly. “I can handle this. I’ve handled worse.”
“That’s the problem,” he snapped, voice low but sharp. “You think surviving something means it didn’t break you.”
She recoiled like he’d slapped her.
Charles exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did,” she said, tone clipped. “And you’re not entirely wrong. But don’t mistake my damage for weakness.”
He turned his back, staring out the window as the skyline glittered in smug silence.
“You’ve been doing this alone for too long,” he said after a moment.
“And you think wrapping me in a penthouse and private security is the answer?”
“No. But watching you spiral while a known criminal closes in isn’t exactly my style either.”
“You mean you don’t like not being in control.”
That hit. He stiffened.
Daisy stepped forward, pushing now. “You’re used to power, Charles. You pull strings, write checks, move people like chess pieces. But this isn’t a deal. This is my life. And it doesn’t play by your rules.”
He turned then, suddenly close. His jaw was tight, his voice like steel. “Do you think this is about control? About some ego trip?”
Her heart pounded. “Isn’t it?”
“No.” His voice dropped. “It’s about not watching someone I care about get dragged into something she shouldn’t have to face. Not again.”
The words lingered between them. Someone I care about.
She didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at it—but this time, it wasn’t hidden in innuendo or locked behind money and charm.
“I don’t need saving,” she said softly. “I need honesty. And space to choose who I want to be. Not another man making the choice for me.”
His eyes darkened. But he didn’t speak.
For a long second, she thought he might walk away.
But instead, he leaned closer—just enough for her to feel the heat of his body, his voice a murmur at her ear.
“You think I’m trying to save you. I’m not. I’m trying not to lose you.”
Then he walked out.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And Daisy stood in the silence,alone eith the weight of her own walls crumbling.
she didn’t follow him.
not because she didn't want to. but because for the first time in years, she didn't know if she was running away or running towards
something that could swallow her whole.
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The minutes after Charles left ticked by in static silence.
Daisy didn’t move. Couldn’t.
The conversation kept looping in her head—his words, her words, the bitter mix of truth and accusation that neither of them had meant to spill. Or maybe they had. Maybe they both needed to bleed a little.
She stared at the untouched espresso growing cold on the counter. Just like that, the warmth between them felt miles away.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Her breath caught.
She answered on instinct. “Hello?”
Nothing. Just soft static.
Then a voice. Smooth. Calm.
“Did you miss me, Day-Day?”
Her blood ran ice cold.
“Kamal,” she whispered.
“Your new boyfriend’s got deep pockets. But tell me—does he know who he’s sleeping next to?” A soft chuckle. “Because I do. I remember everything.”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.” His voice hardened. “You owe me. You don’t get to run clean and leave the rest of us in the gutter.”
Her hand trembled. “I didn’t leave you. I left the life.”
“You left me. You left a hole—and now someone else wants to fill it. Isn’t that sweet?”
Her breath froze.
“What does that mean?” she demanded.
Silence.
Then the line went dead.
She dropped the phone like it had burned her. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Someone else. Was it a bluff? A threat?
Or a confirmation?
And more than that—how had he gotten her number again?
She turned sharply, scanning the apartment, suddenly aware of every shadow. Every silence.
Her trust in Charles warred with a rising panic. How deep did this go? Who else was playing a game she didn’t know the rules to?
When the front door opened again, she jolted.
Charles entered, blazer now discarded, tension simmering off him.
“I told you not to go out,” she snapped.
“I needed air,” he said shortly. “And I needed to make a call you shouldn’t hear.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t be here at all.”
His eyes snapped to hers, sharp and unreadable. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I don’t know what I mean anymore!” she burst out. “You say you care, but you’re suffocating me. You want to protect me, but I don’t even know who I am when I’m near you. Just a version of me that’s half yours and half terrified.”
Charles stepped forward. “You think I don’t know fear, Daisy? I built everything I have because I was afraid of going back to nothing. I know exactly how it feels to live looking over your shoulder.”
“Then stop acting like I’m some shattered thing you can glue back together.”
“I’m not trying to fix you.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
He paused. His voice dropped low.
“I’m trying not to fall in love with a woman who might vanish the moment I blink.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Daisy’s breath caught. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
Charles watched her like he regretted saying it—but wouldn’t take it back.
She stepped back, pulse racing. “I can’t do this right now.”
“I’ll give you space,” he said quietly.
She nodded, turning before her emotions could betray her.
“And Daisy—” His voice stopped her at the bedroom door.
“If you leave,” he said, “I won’t stop you. But Kamal won’t either. And I won’t be the one paying the price.”
She didn’t answer.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
And for the second time in an hour, they were both alone—this time not by choice, but by fear of what honesty might destroy.
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- Writer
