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“I’m armed too.”

“Yes, but you…” She stopped, biting down on whatever she’d been about to say.

“But I what?”

Her gaze lifted to mine. “You wouldn’t hurt me. You’re different from other men. That makes you special.”

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, studying her.

The memory of her office came back hard—her mouth on mine, her body in my hands, the way desperation had disguised itself as desire. I’d wanted her. I wasn’t enough of a liar to pretend otherwise. But wanting a woman and using her fear were not the same thing.

“That doesn’t make me special,” I said. “That’s the lowest damn bar there is.”

“But it does.”

“No, lass. It doesn’t.”

“You don’t get to decide that for a woman who’s spent years around men who don’t stop…who did hurt them.” Her arms tightened around herself. “You scared me in my office. I’m not pretending you didn’t. But you stopped. You offered to help me and didn’t ask what you’d get for it. You have no idea how rare that is. How much better you are than other men.”

I wanted to tell her she was wrong.

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t noble, wasn’t soft, wasn’t whatever damn thing she needed me to be so she could believe the man in front of her was safer than the one controlling her.

I was used to being useful, not good. Being even-keeled and fair made me practical, not special. I was the kind of man who kept the club’s machine running and the staff protected while bigger men played king.

Still, her thinking I was the only man who could keep her safe hit me in the chest. I pushed those thoughts aside and brought us back to the only thing that mattered.

“Isabella,” I said carefully, “you need to pack whatever else matters and walk out the door with me now.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You can.”

“No, I can’t.” Her breath hitched. “I thought I could.”

“Then trust me enough to come with me.”

“I want to.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “God, I want to. I thought I could do this, and now that you’re here, it feels too real. If I leave, I lose everything. My career is gone. My family is gone, my apartment, every stupid, normal thing I worked for is gone. And if I stay…”

She didn’t finish.

“You die sooner than later,” I said.

Her mouth trembled.

“And if Ciro Delgado catches onto you wanting to leave,” I added, “he won’t make it quick.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away fast, angry that it had escaped. “I know.”

I stayed where I was, even though every instinct in me wanted to close the distance. I hated watching a woman break at arm’s length. Moving too soon would crowd her. Waiting too long would leave her alone with the panic. There was a balance to fear, same as violence. Push wrong, and everything snapped.

“I can’t breathe,” she whispered.

I took one step closer. “Look at me.”

She shook her head.

“Isabella.”