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"Isn't it?" She pushed back her hair, strands slipping through her fingers. "What happened to her?"
"None of your business." My hands clenched, knuckles popping white, itching for something to break.
"Please." Christ, that please clawed at me, dug its way under my skin where I didn't want it. "I need to know..."
"Drop it!" The roar tore from my throat, raw and edged. A warning bell clanged in my head, telling me to shut this down before the truth spilled out.
Her mouth snapped shut, lips pressed into a thin line, but those brown eyes accused me, branded me a traitor. Fuck, I wanted to tell her everything and nothing all at once. Wanted to shield her from the storm coming her way, but storms... well, they don't give a shit about you.
"Trust me," I said, the irony bitter as bile. "You're better off not knowing."
"Am I?" Doubt etched every word, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
"Damn right. Focus on staying alive, Ella. That's all you gotta do."
She bit down on her lip, drawing blood. Her pain was loud in the silence, and I hated myself for wanting to answer it.
"Fuckin' eat," I growled, my voice a blade drawn across the tension. "I don't have all day."
"Fine," she murmured, picking at the bread.
"Stop looking at me like that," I snapped, the monster in me clawing closer to the surface. Her gaze flickered up, and goddamn if it didn't make me want to tear down the walls I’d help build.
"Like what?" Her voice was a whisper, a challenge wrapped in vulnerability.
"Like I'm your fuckin' savior." The words came out as a snarl, self-loathing fueling the fire. "I'm not."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she shot back.
"Good." I leaned back, the chair creaking under my weight, my gaze hard. She flinched but held steady, refusing to break eye contact. It was a game of dominance, and I'd be damned if I let her win. She was mine to protect. Mine to destroy. Mine to rebuild.
The door slammed open. "Chris," Priscilla hissed, her tone slicing through the stale air. "What the fuck is this? A nice little date. How cute. Don’t play with the merchandise.”
"She needs to eat," I bit out, standing up to meet her glare for glare.
"Doesn't look like you've fucked her yet." She prowled into the room, looking at Ella with disgust. "You going soft on me, Charming?"
"Never." My jaw clenched; every muscle tensed for a fight. "Just giving her some time to adjust."
"Adjust?" She laughed. "She doesn't need time, she needs training. And you were supposed to start yesterday."
Ella paled, her fork slipping from numb fingers. Shit, she didn’t need to hear this. I stepped forward, blocking Priscilla's view of her.
"Got it under control, Pris." I spat her name like it was venom. "Don't need your fucking input on how I handle things."
"See that you do." Her eyes narrowed, a silent threat lingering in their depths. "Or I'll find someone who can."
"Over my dead body." I squared my shoulders, ready to bear the brunt of her wrath. "She’s under my protection."
"Protection? She's a product. She doesn't need your protection. Train her so she can go to Gustov. Don't forget, I won't hesitate to wheel you out in a body bag if you are no longer fit for your duties."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good." She turned on her heel. "Don't disappoint me, Chris."
"Never do," I called after her retreating form, though the promise felt hollow in my chest. Silence crashed down around us once the door shut, leaving me alone with Ella once again.
"What—" she started, tears in her eyes, but I cut her off with a look.
