Page 67
Story: Only Ever His
That night, as I lay in bed, I felt a strange sense of peace.
The shadow of Marcus still loomed, but it didn’t feel as suffocating as it had before.
Cole wasn’t a perfect man, but he wasn’t Marcus. He didn’t diminish my strength—he brought it out.
TORI
Ilooked at my laptop and sighed. The shop had been closed for hours.
I should've been home by now, curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, sitting next to Cole.
He'd headed straight to my place after work and offered to cook me a late-night dinner.
But I’d lost track of time inventorying shipments and prepping for next week’s display.
I really needed to finish up here soon.
A muffled thud echoed from the backroom, sharp and out of place. My fingers froze on the keyboard.
Every hair on my body stood on end, and the silence that followed felt deafening.
I reached for my phone, my heart pounding in my chest as I typed out a quick message to Cole.
Tori:I think someone’s in the backroom. Don’t know who. Sending this just in case.
I pressed sendand stared at the screen, willing a reply. It came seconds later.
Cole:Leave the shop. Now.
The order was clear,but my feet felt glued to the floor.
Leaving meant walking past the backroom door, and I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to do it.
Instead, I grabbed the closest thing I could find—a metal paperweight shaped like a bird—and gripped it tightly in my hand.
At that moment, I wished I had my gun, but I had left it at home.
The air felt colder as I crept toward the backroom.
The faint scent of cleaning supplies mixed with something unfamiliar, something sharper.
Sweat slicked my palms as I nudged the door open, the paperweight held high.
The room was dimly lit, and at first, I didn’t see him. But then he stepped forward, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Hello, Tori.”
Marcus.
For a moment, all I could do was stare.
He looked the same—too put-together for this kind of chaos, his tailored shirt crisp and his hair neatly styled.
But there was a wildness in his eyes, a gleam that made my stomach churn.
“How did you get in here?” My voice was steadier than I felt.
He smiled, slow and smug, and held up a key. A very familiar key.
The shadow of Marcus still loomed, but it didn’t feel as suffocating as it had before.
Cole wasn’t a perfect man, but he wasn’t Marcus. He didn’t diminish my strength—he brought it out.
TORI
Ilooked at my laptop and sighed. The shop had been closed for hours.
I should've been home by now, curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, sitting next to Cole.
He'd headed straight to my place after work and offered to cook me a late-night dinner.
But I’d lost track of time inventorying shipments and prepping for next week’s display.
I really needed to finish up here soon.
A muffled thud echoed from the backroom, sharp and out of place. My fingers froze on the keyboard.
Every hair on my body stood on end, and the silence that followed felt deafening.
I reached for my phone, my heart pounding in my chest as I typed out a quick message to Cole.
Tori:I think someone’s in the backroom. Don’t know who. Sending this just in case.
I pressed sendand stared at the screen, willing a reply. It came seconds later.
Cole:Leave the shop. Now.
The order was clear,but my feet felt glued to the floor.
Leaving meant walking past the backroom door, and I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to do it.
Instead, I grabbed the closest thing I could find—a metal paperweight shaped like a bird—and gripped it tightly in my hand.
At that moment, I wished I had my gun, but I had left it at home.
The air felt colder as I crept toward the backroom.
The faint scent of cleaning supplies mixed with something unfamiliar, something sharper.
Sweat slicked my palms as I nudged the door open, the paperweight held high.
The room was dimly lit, and at first, I didn’t see him. But then he stepped forward, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Hello, Tori.”
Marcus.
For a moment, all I could do was stare.
He looked the same—too put-together for this kind of chaos, his tailored shirt crisp and his hair neatly styled.
But there was a wildness in his eyes, a gleam that made my stomach churn.
“How did you get in here?” My voice was steadier than I felt.
He smiled, slow and smug, and held up a key. A very familiar key.
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