Page 29 of Fallen Heir
I could feel his eyes on me. Ben had been so kind tonight. So real. We’d joked. Teased each other like brother and sister, inventing fake childhood stories between champagne toasts and slow dances.
Apparently, I could play my parts well. For a few hours, it had felt like more than pretend.
He didn’t continue to press and I was relieved. I noticed his grip tighten on the wheel as we continued to drive in silence.
He was giving me space. Space that I needed.
I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay upright, to stay composed.
Just make it home. Just make it back to the condo. Then I could fall apart.
Not here. Not in front of Ben. Not in this car that still smelled like expensive cologne and warm leather.
But the edges of my vision had already begun to pulse. A faint ringing stirred in my ears, like the world was slowly fading underwater. My chest tightened again—different this time. Deeper. Heavier.
Like my lungs had forgotten how to work. Like my body didn’t trust me anymore.
The panic was coming. Darkness, slow and steady, creeping in around the corners of my mind.
I tried to fight it. To breathe past it. To focus on the light flickering from the streetlamps outside the window.Light. Focus on the light. Don’t let the dark win.
But it clawed anyway. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds. Not to calm myself—To survive them.
It felt like I had just blinked when the car slowed to a stop. Ben was already outside, the car door swinging open before I’d fully registered we were here.
I moved on instinct. Limbs heavy. Head foggy.
The night air hit my face, but I barely felt it.He said something to the doorman—I didn’t catch it. Didn’t care.
The lobby blurred past in soft gold and marble. I ghosted toward the elevator, each step detached from the one before it.
When the doors opened, he followed me inside.
The silence was suffocating. No small talk. No joking. No pretend sibling rivalry. Just the hum of the elevator and my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.
When we reached the top floor, he walked me to my door. Paused. Studied me. Then pulled a key card from his pocket.
My breath caught.
He slid it into the lock like he’d done it a thousand times. A softclick. The door eased open.
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked, his voice low.
I nodded slowly. “Yes,” I whispered, barely managing the word. “Thank you for everything. I just… need to lay down.”
Ben gave a small nod and stepped back. “If you need anything, I’m just downstairs,” he added, slipping the card into my hand. “Suite 10C.”
I stared at the numbers for a second too long.
Downstairs.
He was here.
In this building.
That’s how he knew where to take me. He must’ve seen me before—passing in the lobby, maybe in the elevator.
It made sense. And yet… somehow it didn’t make me feel any less exposed. I managed a faint smile—forced and fragile—and turned to close the door behind me. It latched softly.
