Chapter 204
Chapter 204:
The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across Dallas’s face. His expression didn’t change — no guilt, no surprise, no attempt at explanation. He simply looked back at me with that same calm, unreadable intensity.
“Most furnished units keep linens there,” he said smoothly. “It’s standard p>
“Standard,” I repeated, the word tasting like ash. “You knew exactly where to go. In the dark. In an apartment you’ve never been in before p>
The silence that followed was heavier than the darkness had been.
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t offer an excuse. He simply watched me, waiting to see what I would do with the realization slowly taking shape on my face.
He had moved through the dark too easily. He knew the layout. He knew where the linens were.
“You’ve been here before,” I whispered, the pieces clicking into place with cold clarity. “Not as a guest. Not tonight. You walked through this apartment in the dark before — you knew exactly where that closet was, the top shelf, the blankets. How many times? Before I moved in? After? Did you come here at night, while I was asleep at the penthouse, just to… what? Check on your investment p>
Dallas set his wine glass down with a soft clink.
“I came to ensure it was safe,” he said. “To see the space you would call your own. I didn’t touch your things. I didn’t invade your privacy p>
“You built me a dollhouse,” I said, the bitterness creeping into my tone despite myself. “And then you came to stand in it while I wasn’t looking p>
“I came to be close to you,” he corrected, his voice dropping to that low, rough register that usually made my knees weak. Now it only made my heart ache. “When you were at the penthouse, surrounded by my world, I could breathe. When you were here, alone, I couldn’t. So I came. I stood in the dark and imagined you here, building your life. It was enough p>
𝘈𝘥𝗱𝗂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘷e s𝘵𝘰r𝗶𝘦s 𝗼ո
I stared at him — this man who had burned a kingdom for me, who had knelt in the gravel with a silver blade at his throat — and who had also been standing in my empty apartment in the dark, just to feel close to me.
It wasn’t surveillance. It wasn’t control. It was something far more complicated, far more broken. Obsession. Need. Love twisted into something that couldn’t let go, even in absence.
I pulled the cashmere blanket tighter around my shoulders, inhaling the faint scent of lavender and him that clung to the fabric. It was warm. It was comforting. It was a reminder that even in my moments of supposed independence, he was never truly far away.
I looked at the man across from me — the Alpha who had dismantled kingdoms for me — the candlelight casting his shadow long and distorted against the wall, less like a man and more like the beast I knew lived beneath his skin.
“Standard,” I repeated softly, testing the word one last time.