The air outside was colder than usual, yet my skin burned hotter with every step I took. Walking away with Hayden at my side had made me feel safe for a moment, but the memory of how he had betrayed me lingered like a shadow.
He thrived on lowering defenses with his tolerable facade, only to strike where it hurt most.
I pulled my wrist free from his grasp. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could, a man in a dark suit approached, his movements slightly hurried.
"Young Master Christensen, the car is ready," the man announced, holding the door open with a small bow. Christensen. That was Hayden's middle name. His family used it, and the formality of it scraped against the tense silence.
"Thank you," Hayden said evenly before his gaze returned to me. "I'm not going to explain why I helped you. Don't expect anything from me."
