Page 23 of Protecting Lanie

Her breath hitched.

Archer didn’t need to raise his voice. He didn’t need to force her. His presence alone, the sheerauthorityin the way he held himself, was enough.

Slowly, carefully, she unfolded herself from the couch.

Archer took her hand, guiding her between his knees as he sank onto the couch. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding her.

"You don’t have to be strong all the time," he murmured.

Lanie swallowed hard. "I don’t know how to be anything else."

His fingers traced the inside of her wrist, a slow, steady rhythm. "Then I’ll teach you."

Her pulse fluttered beneath his touch.

"Submission isn’t weakness, little one," Archer continued. "It’s knowing who to trust. Knowing when to let go."

She forced out a shaky breath. "I don’t know if I can."

"Youcan," Archer corrected. "You just haven’t had the right reason to yet."

She looked up at him, caught in his unwavering gaze. He wassosure.

And damn it, part of her wanted to believe him.

But then her phone buzzed.

Lanie startled, the moment shattering around her. She fumbled in her pocket, pulling it out.

One new message from an unknown number. Her stomach clenched as she tapped it open. A photo appeared—Lanie entering the club. The timestamp was fresh. Beneath the image, a message.

See you soon, baby.

Ice crawled through her veins. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The phone slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a softthud.

Archer was moving before she even registered it.

"Lanie." His voice snapped her back.

She looked up, barely aware that she was trembling.

His hands were on her shoulders now, steadying her. "Talk to me."

She couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat.

Archer’s jaw tightened. He picked up the phone, his grip turning white-knuckled the second he saw the screen. The change in him was instant—controlled fury, lethal.

He exhaled slowly, like a man barely holding something violent at bay.

"Where’s your bag?"

Lanie blinked, confused. "What?"

"Your bag, Lanie." His voice was firm. Unyielding.

She pointed to the chair where she’d left it.

Archer grabbed it, shoved the phone inside, then stood. "We’re leaving."

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