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H e flicks his eyes toward me, then back to the road. His voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.

“I’ve got tabs on him.”

The heat in his voice sends a shiver up my spine.

“And you’ve had tabs on me, too. Haven’t you?”

His hands flex on the steering wheel.

Caught.

My heart races.

But he doesn’t deny it.

Of course he doesn’t.

I should be mad. Should demand answers, scream about privacy, draw boundaries like a healthy adult.

But all I can think about is the way he looked standing in my apartment— possessive, lethal, mine.

Even now, my body heats and pulses, so damn attracted to this man I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite like it.

I’m desperate for him.

It’s insane.

It’s unwise.

It’s everything I was raised to run from.

But I feel safer with Balor Cruz tracking my every digital move than I do with my own security team.

Because he doesn’t just want to protect me.

He wants to own the danger.

Control it.

Snuff it out.

And instead of shrinking away from that intensity, from the unspoken violence under his skin, I find myself wanting to lean into it.

Because maybe I’ve always known.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t just accept the darkness in him.

It recognizes it.

Because there’s darkness in me, too.

And somehow, in his orbit, it doesn’t feel like something to be ashamed of.

It feels like armor.

Like finally being seen.

Bingo.

I should feel hunted. Violated.

Maybe I do, a little.

But mostly?

I feel exposed. Seen.

And— God help me —I feel safe. With him. Only him.

“Why?” I ask, needing to hear him say it.

He exhales hard through his nose.

“I couldn’t stay away. You’re in my head. And I—” His jaw works. “I needed to make sure you were safe.”

I stare at him.

He’s not wearing a suit.

Not cleaned up like he is in the office.

Tonight, he looks like the man I first met.

The one with mismatched eyes and knuckles that look like they’ve kissed pavement.

The one who sees through the polish and the press photos.

“You could’ve just told me,” I say softly.

“Yeah, well. I’ve got a habit of fucking things up when I open my mouth.”

I don’t argue.

Because I remember how it felt when he said no.

When I offered myself, heart in my hands, and he looked away like I wasn’t worth the fall.

But this version of Balor— the one seething behind the wheel, the one who answered my call like it might’ve been life or death —he’s not indifferent.

He’s possessive.

And maybe— maybe I don’t hate that.

I slowly relax my grip on my bag. My hands fall to my lap, fingers no longer clenched like I’m bracing for impact.

I glance out the window, watching the city lights smear across the glass like streaks of gold and shadow.

But this time, it’s different.

This time, I don’t feel like prey.

This time, I feel like maybe— just maybe —I’m the predator.

Or at least predator-adjacent.

Is that a thing? Can that be a thing?

Because I’m not scared of him. Not really.

I should be.

Balor Cruz is not a safe man. He’s not gentle or easy or kind in the way most people pretend to be.

He’s brutal. Quiet. Unapologetically sharp around the edges.

But every time he looks at me like that. Like I’m something precious and dangerous all at once. I feel like I could burn right through my own skin.

And the truth?

I want to know if he’s the kind of man who’d burn the whole world down just to keep me safe in it.

Because that’s the man I want.

Not the one who smiles politely and asks how my day was.

Not the one who offers me the illusion of freedom while slowly caging me behind rules and expectations.

This one.

The man behind the wheel.

The one who turned me down once with shaking hands and clenched jaw.

The one who hasn’t stopped watching over me since.

And if I didn’t still taste that rejection in the back of my throat, I’d almost swear that’s the man I’m getting tonight.

Possessive. Unforgiving. Mine.

Maybe that’s the scariest part.

Because I’m not just flirting with danger anymore.

I’m in it.

Wrapped in it.

Danger is driving the car.

Danger is growling under his breath like he’s two seconds from hunting down whoever left that fucking rose.

And danger?

Danger has me in his hands.

And honestly?

There’s nowhere else I want to be.

I feel safe now.

And that’s the only reason my eyes start to close and I somehow fall asleep in his car.