Leonard sat on the edge of the armchair, elbows resting on his knees, eyes steady on her face. He had sent his men to pick her up from the hotel, thankfully, they didn't catch her with Arianna.
When Skye returned home, she had stopped shaking, but her jaw remained tense, lips pressed into a line that screamed resistance. He didn't shout, didn't scold, instead he smiled and he reasoned, he explained.
"I'm not going to endanger my unborn child just to satisfy your need to feel free," he said, voice low, almost pleading. "We can talk. But you're still going to play by my rules, I understand that you can leave and book a hotel, but I will always find you and I don't like it when we fight." He explained, and the maids came to take her nags.
She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Silence stretched between them like wire, naked wire, it was raw, tense, sharp. Eventually, she nodded once, and he exhaled slowly. "Come," he said, patting the seat beside him.
