Page 122 of BounBound By Scars

Asset.

Right.

Something they used. Something that bled and broke and hacked and obeyed. A title. A function. A shell.

The chair beneath me might as well have vanished. Every breath felt heavy. Every syllable he’d spoken clanged in my chest like a cold bell.

‘You’re the only tech asset we have.’

Not the man who almost died trying to save her.

Not the brother who held her blood in his hands.

Just the one who’s supposed to crack codes and bypass firewalls. The only one left.

I felt a hand on my arm. Firm. Grounding.

Kaylan.

Her grip wasn’t soft—it was a goddamn tether. I hadn’t even realized I was shaking until she stopped it. My fists were clenched under the table, tight enough that I wouldn’t have felt it if I broke my own fingers.

I was dangerously close to hurling a chair at Ghost. Maybe it wasn’t his fault. But grief didn’t give a shit about logic. And right now, I wasn’t grieving—I was drowning.

I nodded once. Sharp. Mechanical.

“On it, Ghost,” I mumbled and walked out without another word.

Behind me, I heard Leora mutter something under her breath—low and laced with venom. Aimed at Ghost, not me.

I didn’t stay to hear it.

Instead, I dragged myself back to my room.

Ours. Technically.

Amelia had—for all intents and purposes—moved in before D.C. Her things were still there. Her scent, too—faint but enough to ruin me.

How the fuck was I supposed to breathe in here?

The moment the door shut behind me, the silence screamed. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, sinking down on the bed like every bone had gone hollow.

The quiet pressed in. I glanced to the side, to the spot where she had sat once—legs crossed while naming drone propellers.

Lotus.

Orchid.

Lily.

Dahlia.

My eyes widened.

DaLia.

Fuck.

I had shit to do. I couldn’t spiral. Not yet.

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