The Lie That Bound Us.

Chapter 4

“Good,” he whispers. “You’re honest. That’s rare.”

And then he backs away from me, enough so that there is space between us again, and I’m left shuddering in the silence.

My breath is coming fast, my belly is doing flips, and I’m trying to focus, trying to ground myself, but I’m still aware of him, still aware of the tension he brings with him

I shouldn’t want

And yet, I do.

I’m not sure what it is, desire or curiosity or danger or all of the above and something else that I’m not even aware of yet.

What I do know is that he is danger and he is power and he is...intensity.

What I know is that I’m already being pulled into it.

Even as I’m walking back to my desk, trying to be careful and trying to be composed, I’m aware of his gaze on me, aware of the fact that he’s watching me.

And it scares the crap out of me.

Because I’m not sure if I can escape it.

Because I don’t want to.

Because I already know, on some level, that it’s only the beginning.

“Quiet can be lonely,” he said, almost teasing. But there was something in his voice that made my stomach twist.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t mind.”

His eyes grew darker. “I think you do.”

I didn’t argue with him. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. The truth was, I felt things around him that I had never felt before. Fear and excitement were all mixed up in my mind. Heat and tension that made my skin crawl and burn at the same time.

He leaned closer to me, just enough for me to feel the warmth of his body. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t have to. Being near him was enough to make my knees go weak, my hands tremble slightly.

“You think you’re safe here,” he said softly. “But nothing about me is safe.”

I shivered. I didn’t know if it was because of the cold in the room or because of what he said. I shouldn’t have allowed him to get to me. I should have stayed out of his way. Should have stayed quiet. Should have stayed invisible. But I didn’t.

Before I could answer, the sound of a phone ringing broke the tension. My head snapped to the source—my desk. I moved toward it, heart still racing from him, and picked up the phone.

It was the foundation’s security line.

A panic I didn’t understand yet tightened my chest. “Hello?”

“Miss Moore?” The voice was low, urgent. “There’s… there’s been an incident. At the building.”

I froze. My mind couldn’t process the words fast enough. “Incident? What kind of incident?”

“Just… stay where you are. Lock the doors. Don’t move until help arrives.”

I hung up, hands trembling. I looked up. Alaric’s expression had changed. The confident, overbearing aura was still there, but now it was sharper, more urgent. Protective. Dangerous in a different way.

He was moving before I even had time to think. One second he was behind his desk, the next he was at my side, scanning the room like he could see every corner at once.

“Show me,” he said. His voice was calm, but it carried weight. Command.

I followed him instinctively, even though every instinct in me screamed to stay put, stay hidden.

We moved to the main hall. The doors were locked, but I could see it through the glass. The reception area had been vandalised. Papers were scattered everywhere. Someone had broken in.

My stomach lurched. “Who… who would do this?”

Alaric didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer to me, his presence overwhelming. The room, the incident, the fear—I realised I felt safer with him here than anywhere else. And that scared me more than the break-in ever could.

“It’s not safe,” he said finally. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”

I wanted to protest. To tell him it was just a small attack, nothing personal. But I couldn’t find the words. I could feel the tension coiling around us, tight, electric.

He turned slightly toward me, eyes softening for the briefest moment. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be exposed to this.”

“I…” My voice faltered. I didn’t want to admit how much I needed him to stay. “I’m fine.”

“No,” he said, firm. “You’re not fine. And if you think I’ll let you stay here alone after this—you’re wrong.”

Before I could answer, his hand brushed against mine, not quite touching, not quite not touching. But close enough that I felt a shiver run down my arm where his had been. I tried to move away, but I couldn’t. Not now. Not when the space between us had become something I couldn’t ignore. Something I didn’t want to ignore.

“Stay close,” he said softly. “Do exactly as I say.”

I nodded, unable to speak. Unable to look anywhere else.

He moved me towards a side room, locking the doors behind us. The air inside was cool, but my skin felt on fire. His presence filled the space completely, his confidence pressing down on me like gravity.

I felt tiny, smaller than I had ever felt before. Fragile. Exposed. And yet… safe.

‘I need you to stay here,’ he said. ‘No matter what’s going on outside, you don’t leave this room.’

‘Yes,’ I said. My voice was shaking slightly.

He looked at me, his eyes unreadable. There was something in them, though – something dark, something enticing, and my heart was racing. He was moving closer. Too close. So close that I could feel his breath on my skin.

‘I won’t let anyone hurt you,’ he said. His hand was stroking my hair out of my face. My heart skipped a beat. I knew just how much I wanted him to go further, even though my mind was full of fear.

The sounds of shouting outside made me jump. My stomach was churning.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my line of sight, protecting me without touching me. Protective. Dominant. Everything I wasn't supposed to want, and yet everything I did.

"Stay behind me," he said, his voice husky and intimate. "Do exactly as I say."

"Yes," I said again, my throat constricted.

And then, suddenly, the shouting stopped and a scream ensued.

A scream that seemed... too close. Too real.

I stood there, my heart racing, and I saw him stand at attention beside me, ready to react to whatever happened next. And that's when I understood, horrifyingly, that this wasn't random.

It wasn't a burglary.

It was targeted.

And I was right in the middle of it.

His hand brushed my arm—not roughly, not even really touching me—but it was enough to make my skin prickle. “Stay close. Don’t move.”

I nodded, frozen in place, and he turned toward the door.

“Whatever happens,” he said, his voice low and commanding, “don’t let go. Not until I say you can.”

My chest was sore, my hands shook. My mind was racing.

And then the door handle rattled.

A shadow moved across the frosted glass.

My heart stopped.