The back door swung shut behind Daniel, the echo fading into the distant hum of the café’s early-morning bustle.
Aisha stayed frozen against the lockers, breathing in shallow, trembling pulls of air.
Her pulse still raced from Daniel’s words… and from Callen’s voice cutting through them like thunder.
Callen stepped toward her—not close enough to touch, but close enough for his presence to swallow the narrow hallway.
His jaw was tight, his eyes still silver-bright with fury, the kind that simmered long after the danger was gone.
“Aisha,” he said quietly, but the steel in his tone carried unmistakable authority. “Come with me.”
She hesitated, still shaken.
His expression softened only a fraction. “Please.”
That single word undid her resistance. She followed him into the small deli
