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Her voice stays steady, chin lifted high—but underneath it, I can hear the fracture she’s trying to hide.

“And again,” she continues, “it doesn’t matter, I understood perfectly what you want from me—every time after we had sex, you couldn’t wait to find a way to make me leave.”

The words land like glass shattering in my chest. But her voice wavers at the end anyway—betraying her. She’s hurt. No matter how much she tries to hide it.

“But it’s fine, Ethan,” she says, forcing a tight bitter curve to her lips. “You can sleep with whoever you want. I plan to do the same.”

Then she turns toward the door again.

And that’s the moment I had enough.

I grab her hand—harder this time—and spin her back into my arms. In one motion, I pull her against my chest, her back pressed firmly to me, my arms locking around her waist.

Her body stiffens subtly. Her breath catches as I lower my mouth near her ear.

“First,” I say, voice low, husky, “you’re not leaving this house until I say you can.”

Not a request.

A command.

She tries to speak, but I tighten my hold, shutting her down.

My pulse hammers against her spine. Under my hands, I feel her heart racing just as fast.

“Second,” I whisper, my breath hot on her neck. “If you really want to see what I’m capable of when someone touches what’s mine, go ahead. Do what you just said.”

Then I bite her shoulder, pulling a raw gasp from her.

She jolts in my arms, trembling, but I don’t stop. Tonight, everything we’ve left unsaid burns its way to the surface.

“And third,” I murmur after a pause, my tone even rougher, “yes.”

I tighten my arms around her again, anchoring her to me.

“I fucked Irina. More than once,” I admit, flat and unfiltered.

She reacts as expected, twisting, trying to break free, her body fighting mine.

“Let me go.”

I don’t. My hold stays firm as I continue, ignoring her struggle, my words sincere, stripped of anything but truth.

“I only slept with her at the office, when we both needed it.”

“Ethan, let me go,” she snaps again, her restraint cracking.

But I keep going, my lips close to her ear.

“It meant nothing,” I say quietly. “And it hasn’t happened since the first time I slept with you.”

That’s when she stops.

Completely.

No more resistance. No more words. Even her breathing falters—uneven, shallow.

I go still as well. I’ve put everything on the table. Almost everything.