Chapter 10: The Ice Begins to Crack

Jordan didn't come home until late that night. Amira heard the sound of his footsteps in the hallway, followed by the door to their shared bedroom opening. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, when he walked in.

"You're still awake," he observed, removing his suit jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted.

Jordan loosened his tie, his movements slow and controlled. "Something on your mind?"

She hesitated, then decided to test him. "My father called me today."

His hands stilled for a brief second before he resumed unbuttoning his cuffs. "And what did he want?"

"What he always wants—money," she said bitterly.

Jordan's gaze flickered toward her. "And what did you tell him?"

She lifted her chin. "That I wouldn't give him a cent."

Jordan studied her for a moment, then smirked. "Good."

That was it? No anger, no questions?

"You're not worried he'll cause problems?" she asked.

Jordan shrugged. "Your father is a greedy man, but he's not stupid. He won't bite the hand that could still feed him."

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. He always spoke like he was ten steps ahead of everyone else.

"Are you always this calculating?" she muttered.

Jordan smirked as he sat on the edge of the bed, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. "Only when necessary."

Amira rolled her eyes and turned away, but she couldn't ignore the way her heart raced as he got closer.

She told herself she despised him.

So why did being near him feel so dangerous?.