Chapter 6
1243 Words
GRACE
I don’t sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see his hands—steady, capable—doing things that don’t line up with the life he’s shown me. A coffee shop cashier doesn’t quietly fix entire systems. He doesn’t erase debt. He doesn’t place people inside elite firms without leaving fingerprints.
Unless he’s lying.
Or unless I am.
The realization settles in my chest like a stone.
Edward isn’t just around when things happen.
He’s the axis they rotate on.
By the time morning comes, I stop pretending this is coincidence.
I skip class.
I go to the address on my internship paperwork.
Hale & Crowe Legal rises out of the city like it owns the skyline—glass and steel and quiet authority. I stand across the street staring at the name etched into stone, my stomach twisting so hard it almost hurts.
You’re being paranoid, I tell myself.
Then I step inside.
The lobby hums with polished efficiency. Everyone moves like they belong here.
I very clearly do not.
“I’m here for Grace Andrews,” the receptionist says into her headset before I even open my mouth.
My heart stutters.
She smiles. “Mr. Hale is expecting you.”
Mr. Hale.
The floor tilts.
I follow her down a corridor that smells like money and intention, my pulse roaring in my ears. Every step forward confirms what I already know.
The door opens.
Edward stands behind a desk.
Not in rolled sleeves.
Not in worn denim.
Not tired.
He’s immaculate. Controlled. Dangerous in a way I don’t yet have language for.
The room goes silent.
“Grace,” he says softly.
I don’t breathe.
“You—” My voice breaks. I force it steady. “You’re him.”
He doesn’t pretend.
“I was always me.”
Something inside me snaps.
“You lied.”
“No,” he says gently. “I withheld.”
“That’s worse.”
I step forward, anger burning hot enough to drown the fear. “You paid my tuition. My rent. You gave me a job I didn’t even apply for directly.”
“You earned it.”
“You manipulated it.”
His jaw tightens. “I protected it.”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“I know.”
That stops me cold.
He comes around the desk slowly, deliberately—like he’s approaching something wild that might bolt.
“I didn’t do this to own you,” he says. “I did it because watching you drown when I could stop it was unbearable.”
My chest aches. “You watched me.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hits harder than any lie.
“How long?”
His eyes never leave mine. “Long enough to know I would never let you fall.”
Tears burn, furious and humiliating. “You decided that for me.”
“I decided you deserved help,” he says quietly. “The rest is still yours.”
I laugh bitterly. “You think this doesn’t change things?”
“It changes everything.”
Silence stretches—thick, heavy, electric.
“You work here,” I say numbly. “And at the coffee shop.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His mouth curves slightly. “Because power is loud. And I needed to know who you were when no one was watching.”
A chill slides down my spine.
“That sounds—”
“—obsessive,” he finishes calmly. “It is.”
I should run.
I don’t.
“Did you ever plan to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When you could walk away.”
That steals my breath.
“I can,” I say.
He nods. “I know.”
I hate that he believes it.
I hate more that he’s right.
EDWARD
Watching her realize the truth hurts more than I expected.
Not because she’s afraid.
Because she’s disappointed.
That’s the blade.
“You could’ve just asked,” she says quietly.
“And you would’ve said no.”
She doesn’t argue.
“I didn’t want compliance,” I continue. “I wanted choice. But choice only matters when you’re standing on solid ground.”
“You don’t get to decide what solid is for me.”
“No,” I admit. “But I get to remove the traps.”
She turns away, pacing, hands shaking.
“You don’t even see how far you crossed the line.”
“I see it perfectly,” I say. “I just chose you anyway.”
She stops.
“That’s not romantic,” she snaps. “That’s terrifying.”
“Only if you think I’d cage you.”
I step closer—but not too close.
“I want you to stay,” I say. “But I won’t stop you from leaving.”
She turns back, eyes blazing.
“You already did.”
“No. You’re here because you came. Not because I summoned you.”
She hates that she can’t argue with that.
“You altered my future,” she whispers.
“I stabilized it,” I say. “You’re still driving.”
Her breath shudders.
“And the internship?”
“Is real. Earned. And yours whether you ever speak to me again or not.”
She studies my face, searching for the lie.
She doesn’t find it.
“You could ruin me.”
“Yes,” I agree. “And you could destroy me.”
That surprises her.
“I’ve built empires,” I continue. “But letting you see me like this? That’s the risk I never take.”
Her voice drops. “Why me?”
Because you fight alone.
Because you don’t know your worth.
Because I saw you first.
“Because you matter,” I say instead.
The air between us tightens.
She steps closer.
“I don’t know what this makes us,” she says. “And I don’t know if I should want you.”
Her eyes lift to mine.
“But I do.”
That’s the moment restraint fractures.
I move—then stop inches from her.
“Say it,” I murmur. “Tell me to.”
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Edward,” she whispers.
i pull her to me, firm, deliberate, but i make myself wait. let her feel how badly I've been holding back. how control is a choice, not a lack of desire.
when i kiss her, its slow. deep. claiming. like im learning her instead of taking her.
i lift her onto the edge of the desk, not rough but deceive, and step between her legs.
"still okay?" i ask forehead pressed to hers.
"yes," she breathes. "God, yes!"
i see the want, the desire, the heat in her eyes. i feel the way her body reacts to my touch.
i whisper in her ear
"i want to taste you, i want to see you come undone, i want to see you pretty lips wrapped around my member, i want to feel how tight you are. but not tonight but soon baby girl"
when i pull away her breathing is ragged her expression has a mix of heat and anxiety so i do the only thing i know to do
i kiss her once more, slow, devastating, then force myself back.
restraint never hurt like this.
"This changes things," she says quietly.
"yes," i agree. " it changes every thing
- Writer
