Page 94 of Legacy
She steps in. Close enough I can feel her heat.
“No.”
A pause. A beat that feels like a gun cocking.
“Now werenegotiate.”
Her voice is satin-wrapped steel.
I exhale a quiet laugh through my nose, but it dies when I glance down.
Her hand.Bandaged.My chest tightens. My fault. I pissed her off so much she smashed that glass.
I reach out without thinking, fingers brushing the edge of the gauze. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move.
“You’re hurt,” I say, quiet now. And fuck if that doesn’t mean more than just her hand.
She looks up, and for a second—just a second—her eyes soften. The storm eases. The edge dulls.
“It’s nothing,” she murmurs. But she doesn’t pull away.
Not yet.
I take her wrist, gentle, my thumb sliding over the skin above the bandage. I shouldn’t touch her like this. Not after the lies. Not after I made a battlefield of our first day.
But she’s letting me.
For now.
Her breath catches, barely, but I feel it. I feel the thrum of her pulse under my fingers. Steady. Fierce.
Just like her.
“You shouldn’t fight me like this,” I say, and damn, I mean it. More than I should. “Not with me.”
Her lips part. Her eyes search mine; like she’s looking for the crack in my armor, or maybe the man she once loved.
And then—gone.
She pulls her hand back fast, the cold slamming back between us.
“I’ll draft the new terms,” she says. Clipped. Sharp. Like a blade sliding back into its sheath.
“You’ll have a copy in the morning. Send it to your lawyer if you want.”
She turns. Walks.
“Adriana.”
She stops at her door. Doesn’t look back.
“I meant what I said,” I tell her, voice low. Barely holding. “I don’t want to fight you.”
Silence. A beat too long.
Then, soft. Deadlier than any shout.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have started it.”
