Page 56 of Velvet Corruption

“Cool, yeah. Maybe try not breaking your other hand though?”

I whipped around to glare at him. He didn’t even flinch—just stood there, infuriatingly calm, like this was any other night and not the goddamn unraveling of my entire life.

“Can’t do that,” he added, quieter now. “Not when you clearly need my help.”

And there it was. Not pity. Not even gloating.

Just certainty.

The kind that wrapped around you like gravity.

I rolled my eyes, but he opened the door wider and scooped up my keys. “Okay,” he said. “I’m driving.”

“Seriously?” I groaned. “Kieran, I thought you were my stalker, not my chauffeur.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart,” he teased. “Do you need my help getting out?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, biting down an angry retort. I stepped out of my car and walked to the passenger side, my heart beating so fast I thought I might faint.

The key turned in the ignition, and my car started with a low rumble. Kieran settled into the driver’s seat like he belonged there. I glared at him, but he had this calm, collected look that I wanted to punch right off his face.

“Relax,” he said, like he was doing me a favor. “I know where you live.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking,” he replied.

I sank into the seat, feeling the weight of the day press down on me. I wasn’t used to being the passenger—not in life, not in anything. The air inside the car was thick, each second swelling with silence. I wanted to fill it with something, maybe more harsh words, but I was drained. Instead, I focused on the city lights streaming past the window, all blurred and distant.

Minutes ticked by, and I tried to convince myself he was taking me home. This was temporary. I just needed to get through the night. But then we hit a main street, and Kieran veered away from my neighborhood, my place falling further behind with every turn.

I clenched my teeth. “Where the hell are you going?”

Kieran didn’t even flinch. “You can’t drive, and your kid’s not home. You really wanna sit alone all night feeling sorry for yourself?”

My hands were fists in my lap, one wrapped in bandages, the other just as useless. “I’d rather sit in an empty house than be near you.”

He gave me a sidelong glance, more amused than anything. “That’s a lie.”

I looked away, watching the buildings bleed into one another. A part of me wanted to lash out, to grab the wheel and force it back to where I wanted, but the rest of me knew he was right.

And that made it worse.

I hated that he was right.

Kieran kept driving, unbothered by my silence. He had this way of making everything seem like it was going according to some plan, like he had me all figured out.

“Besides,” he said, and his voice was maddeningly casual, “you don’t want anyone to see a Callahan dropping you off at home.”

My jaw tightened. If anyone caught sight of me leaving Kieran’s car, if Julian found out, it would be a mess—a mess I couldn’t afford. The press would eat it up. My opponents would love it. I’d be the DA cozying up to the mob.

He knew it. I knew it.

And I was stuck.

“I hate you,” I muttered, staring hard at the passing lights.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Kieran turned down a narrow street, a dumb smirk on his face. “And yet, here we are.”

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