Page 107 of Shattered By Grace

Tristan turned, finally looking at Lena directly. And damn, if looks could kill...

Tristan’s gaze flickered to her, but there was nothing in his eyes except cold calculation. His voice was low, cutting throughthe tension like a blade. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’ve got any room to breathe in this conversation.”

Lena visibly swallowed, her facade cracking slightly.

“We’re done here.”

Victoria didn’t even glance back as Tristan led her away, her steps purposeful and steady. She knew Lena was still standing there, simmering with frustration, but she wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Where are we going?” Victoria asked, her voice calm, almost detached, as Tristan pulled her down the long hallway, his grip firm around her hand.

Without answering, Tristan pulled her into the elevator, his jaw set, the tension between them palpable. The doors closed, and as they descended, the silence was thick with unspoken thoughts.

“So, I’m guessing you won’t elaborate on whatever relationship you had with Lena, huh?” She glanced at him, her gaze sharp, taking in how his jaw is clenched so tight, it looked painful.

Tristan’s eyes flicked to hers for a brief moment, but he didn't answer. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. He took her hand again, leading her out toward the big glass doors.

The bike was exactly where it was left, sitting silently in the dark, awaiting him. Tristan dropped her hand and strode over to it, grabbing the keys with a swift motion.

Victoria couldn’t help but notice the way he moved. The effortless command in his broad shoulders, the quiet power coiled beneath his skin. There was a rawness to him now, something simmering just beneath the surface, barely restrained. Controlled anger. Dark intent.

Tristan swung a leg over the bike, the motion fluid, practiced. With one swift motion, he pulled the kickstand up, glancing ather over his shoulder. His eyes caught hers through the visor, a simmering hunger crackling in the space between them.

"Get on," he said, his voice edged with restrained dominance, holding the helmet in one hand and the other outstretched so she could take it

“Are you going to tell me what shifted in you, or should I start guessing?”

“Not here. Not now. Get on.”

Victoria hesitated. She stepped forward, grabbing his offered hand, her heels clicking against the pavement as she swung her leg over the back of the bike. She slid into place behind him, the proximity of his body sending her pulse racing.

The moment they’re settled, Tristan started the engine, the roar of it vibrating through her as he pulled away from the curb. His body was tense, but purposeful, and Victoria felt the power beneath them as they raced through the night.

There was something about the wind, the rush of movement, and the raw energy of the ride that made her feel alive in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Tristan’s grip on the throttle was steady. His quiet confidence spoke volumes, filling the space between them with subtle intensity.

She leaned in closer, the heat of his body against hers sparking a tension in the air. The city streets blurred into a haze of lights and shadows as they navigated the night. Tristan’s arm brushed against hers, and he glanced back for just a second, his eyes locking with hers before he looked ahead again.

Tristan turned his head at the red light, a smirk playing on his lips. Before she could react, his hand slid up her thigh, firm and possessive. Her breath caught, heat rushing through her at the simple, confident touch.

"Are you sure you trust me?" His voice was rough with desire.

Victoria exhaled shakily. "With my life."

The light cast a glow over them, flickering against the sleek metal of the bike. Tristan revved the engine, the deep growl vibrating through her, through both of them. And then, without warning, his grip tightened on her thigh, firm and unyielding.

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly, leaving no room for hesitation.

Victoria barely had time to process before he shifted his weight, his body coaxing hers forward. Instinct took over. She moved, sliding against him, her chest pressed into his back as she swung her leg over with careful precision. The moment she settled, straddling him, face to face, his hands found her hips, claiming her.

Her breath came in shallow bursts, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the crisp night air whipping around them. The bike hummed beneath them, the world beyond dimming into insignificance.

“Hold tight,” Tristan murmured, his smirk deepening, dark eyes locked onto hers.

The light flickered green.

He rolled the throttle, and the bike surged forward, swallowing them into the night. The city lights blurred behind them, neon streaks bleeding into the pavement as he picked up speed. The wind bit at her skin, but all she felt was him. Solid, scorching, and impossible to ignore.

The rush was dizzying and intoxicating. The sheer power of the bike, the reckless intimacy of their position, the way his grip tightened on her waist every time she shifted against him.

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