Brandon's POV
The door creaked open, releasing a heavy low metallic click that echoed louder in my chest than in the hallway. Elizabeth's frame filled the doorway like she'd been waiting for me, already rehearsed, already posed. Her hand stretched against the wall, the other gripping the edge of the door, her waist tilted at an angle that carried both elegance and provocation.
Her stance unsettled me. She didn't look like someone cornered by secrets. She didn't look like someone who'd been caught. Instead, she stood like she was in control of the room already—looking so chill.
That confidence troubled me. I had expected her to be restless, tense, maybe even defensive. But Elizabeth smiled. And that calm, cool, playful smile—burned at me.
I didn't return it. My face scrunched, jaw tightening into stone, a message clear enough: no funny games. No flirting. No easy charms.
