CHAPTER 6

After eating, he just give me a kiss. I didn't let him take me home because I know the moment Camille saw him , she won't stop interrogating us.

I couldn't sit still the entire ride. My thoughts were all over the place because I didn't even know if I should tell Camille what happened because the truth was, I wanted it too and he didn't forced me....I wasn't forced, I didn't resist. I let it happen… because I wanted him. And I didn't stop it, because even now, my knees still felt weak because of what happened between the two of us. Every nerve still hummed with the remnants of his touch. He didn't hand me money. Instead, he told me one thing....

"Let's talk tomorrow. There's something I need to clear up."

I couldn't tell and I wasn't ready to find out yet.

"So, what happened?"

"We're okay now."

"See? I told you. He's not dangerous and you're going to be fine." Camille said proudly.

If only she knew.

But who would have thought that the very person whose face I'd rather not see, would become the reason I struggle to sleep at night? It's crazy how things can change. Because now, he's always in my head...unnoticed. Every quiet moment, his name echoes in my thoughts like an uninvited song stuck on repeat.

Windham. That's all I know.....just his last name. I don't even know his first name, let alone the details of who he really is. But somehow, he's already carved in my chest. It's strange and terrifying, this unfamiliar joy I feel whenever I remember the way he looked at me, the way he claim me, like it meant something. Is this what they call happiness? Or is it that fluttery feeling they say happens when someone starts to matter? I don't know. Maybe it's just a crush. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Or maybe… just maybe… I'm falling for him far too fast.

When we got home, Camille went straight to bed, because of tiredness. But me? I stood by the window, staring out into the night, watching the glow of passing cars and scattered city lights. My chest was a mix of nerves and something I didn't want to name.

Then, my phone buzzed. It's him again.

> I'm outside.

A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. He never asked for permission....he just appeared unnoticed. What now? What reason could he possibly have this time? And why did a part of me want to run downstairs and see him all over again?

The light from the street lamps barely reached our building, but I can still see a familiar figure, leaning against the hood of a sleek black car. He was just standing there, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding his phone. Like he had all the time in the world… but only for me.

I stared down at him from the window for a few seconds but still debating whether to go down or not. My mind screamed no but my feet had already moved.

Moments later, I was outside and he looked up the moment I stepped out the door like he can already feel my presence. There he was, him. That maddening, infuriating, impossible man who had turned my world upside down with just a look. And now, that same look was fixed on me but with a smile and a spark in his eyes.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He took one step forward, then another, and without asking, without a single warning, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Not like earlier that's full of desperation and fire. This one was a fast. And I let him.

For a moment, the world faded. There were no rules, just the way his hand gently hold the back of my neck, and the way I leaned into him like I had no control left to give.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine. "You didn't push me away," he murmured, voice low and rough. "I didn't want to," I admitted, barely louder than a breath.

He let out a small, shaky laugh. "You make it impossible to stay away, you know that?"

I looked up at him, heart thudding. "Then why are you here?" He paused, searching my face with that unreadable gaze of his. "To ask you something... something simple," he said.

"What is it?"

He stepped back, just enough to take a breath and look at me without distraction. "Go on a date with me." He said that made me blinked. Of all the things I thought he'd say, that wasn't one of them. "A… date?" I repeated, unsure if I heard him right.

"A real one," he clarified. "No games. No hidden motives. Just you and me. I want to take you out—properly. Get to know you… without all the mess. For once."

I stared at him, completely thrown off balance. After everything—after the chaos, the fire, the tension—he was asking for something normal. And somehow, that was even more terrifying. But as I looked at him standing there, hopeful yet trying not to show it, I felt something warm stir in my chest.

"Okay," I whispered.

The city lights blurred behind the tinted windows as the car explores through the place. Neither of us spoke for a while but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt full.....Like both of us were enjoying the time even in silence.

He eventually took me to a rooftop restaurant. The last restaurant we're in.

We talked over dinner and he told me about the pressure of inheriting a company he never asked for. About losing people. About the loneliness.

His gaze never left mine. "I hope you won't run from me anymore," he said, voice quiet.

"Maybe," I replied. But I wasn't sure.....I wasn't sure of anything.

Then, as we walked back to the car, his hand brushing against mine and he stopped.

"What is it?" I asked with confusion but he didn't answer. His expression shifted hard and cold. He's looking behind me. "Get in the car," he said quickly.

"What—"

"I said, get in the car. Now."

His voice changes it's tone. I turned instinctively, and that's when I saw a man dressed in all black, standing near the corner of the building and unmoving. "Who is that?" I whispered, but he didn't answer. He just stepped in front of me protectively, eyes still locked on the man.

Then my phone buzzed in my purse and a message pop out from an unknown number.

> You shouldn't have trusted him.

I looked up at him and he looked down at me. And he looked at me not with fear, but with guilt.