The knock on Amelia’s door was quiet, almost careful.
Not the sharp, commanding knock she associated with power and authority. Not the kind she imagined an Alpha would give.
Just… Ethan.
Amelia stood from the edge of the couch, her pulse instantly loud in her ears. Maya had already retreated to her room, giving them space, but Amelia still felt like the whole apartment was holding its breath.
She crossed the small distance and opened the door.
Ethan stood in the hallway, dressed simply—dark jeans, a plain long-sleeved shirt, no suit, no corporate polish. Two men waited several steps behind him, clearly security, their attention fixed elsewhere out of respect.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
His eyes moved over her face as if checking for injuries no one else could see. Tirednes
