Page 51 of His to Possess
"You know," Laurel said quietly, interrupting my thoughts, "growing up here doesn't make you weak. It makes you resilient."
I stopped in my tracks, turning to face her. "Resilience isn't enough. You have to be ruthless to truly succeed."
She met my gaze, unflinching. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify how you treat people?"
Her words stung, but I didn't let it show. "It's the truth. The world doesn't care about your feelings or your past. It only cares about what you can offer, what you can take."
"That's a cold way to live," she said softly. "Surely you wonder sometimes if it's worth it."
I shrugged, my mask firmly back in place. "It kept me alive. It made me successful. That's enough."
"But did it make you happy?"
Her question hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I was tempted to answer honestly. But vulnerability was a luxury I couldn't afford.
"Happiness is overrated," I replied, my voice cold. "Now, are we going to check on your apartment or not?"
I followed Laurel up the narrow stairwell, my eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The building's quiet unnerved me—too much like the calm before a storm. As we reached her floor, I spotted the damage to her door immediately. Shallow indentations marred the wood, and chips littered the floor beneath. It wasn't as bad as I had feared, but it was enough to set my teeth on edge.
Laurel fumbled with her keys, relief washing over her face as she stepped inside. "See? Everything's fine." Her tone was light, but I wasn't convinced.
I ran my fingers over the damaged wood, feeling the rough edges. "You need to tell your landlord," I said, my voice low and serious. "This door wouldn't stand up to a determined kick. The frame's the weak point—it's old, probably dry-rotted. One good hit and it would splinter."
Laurel's eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know all that?"
I met her gaze, debating how much to reveal. "Let's just say I learned the hard way about security when I was younger," I finally replied, my tone clipped.
She looked like she wanted to press further, but thankfully stayed silent. I stepped into her apartment, my eyes automatically cataloging exits, potential weapons, sight lines. Old habits died hard.
"You should consider moving," I said, turning back to face her. "This place isn't safe."
Laurel's jaw set stubbornly. "This is my home. I'm not running away because of one incident."
Her defiance both frustrated and impressed me. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my tone level. "It's not about running away. It's about being smart, staying ahead of potential threats."
She crossed her arms, challenge in her eyes. "And I suppose you have some suggestions about where I should go?"
I did, of course. A dozen secure locations sprang to mind immediately. But I knew pushing too hard would only make her dig her heels in further. "For now, let's focus on improving security here," I said instead. "New locks, reinforced frame. I'll have someone come by tomorrow to install them."
Laurel opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. "Non-negotiable. I won't have you staying in a place that's this vulnerable."
She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Fine. But I get to approve any modifications."
"Deal." Relief washed over me. It wasn't ideal, but it was a start. And for now, that would have to suffice.
"Do you know who would have done this?" I asked, my eyes moving slowly around the hall. "I'm guessing there aren't any security cameras here."
My gaze eventually found hers. She shifted—just a little. The movement was small, almost unnoticeable, but I caught it. It might have been nerves, just fear from everything happening. Or maybe… maybe it was something else. Something she didn'twant me to see. I couldn't say for sure—not yet. But I was going to figure it out.
"I'm… not sure," she said quietly, looking away quickly, avoiding my eyes.
She walked up to the door and unlocked it with shaky hands. Just as she was about to step inside, I held my arm out in front of her, stopping her before she could move any further.
Even though her landlord had said everything was clear, I couldn't trust that yet. There was still a chance someone could be inside, hiding, waiting to hurt her—or worse. The thought alone made my stomach tighten with worry.
I took a breath and stepped through the doorway first, scanning every corner of the small space. It was significantly smaller than my penthouse, which made checking it out much faster. I didn't see anything out of place, but I remained alert.
"You can come in now," I said over my shoulder.
