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She glanced back at Carver, still sleeping soundly, and her anger flared. How could he do this to her? She wanted to scream, to wake him and demand answers, but a part of her was still paralyzed by the realization of who he truly was.
Her breaths came in shallow gasps as she tried to calm herself. She needed to think, to figure out a way out of this mess.
The man she had kissed, the man who had seemed so protective, was also the man who now held her captive. She couldn’t reconcile the two images, and it made her head spin.
With a final, desperate tug at her bindings, Lucy swallowed her panic and forced herself to think. She needed to get out of here, to get away from Carver, but first, she needed to wake him up and face whatever twisted game he was playing.
Lucy had been tempted to yell at him, but her attempts to free herself eventually woke him up. Carver’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a mix of concern and something she couldn’t quite place.
“Let me go this instant,” she demanded, her voice trembling but firm.
He reached out to cup her cheek, and the tenderness in his gesture stunned her. Lucy should hate his guts, should be filled with rage and fear, but his hand felt so warm against her skin.
It sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch for a brief moment.
“Not until we’ve cleared up some things,” he told her, releasing her slowly as if reluctant to let go.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath.
He wanted to talk. Talking was fine. That meant he had no intention of getting rid of her … yet.
“I’ll release you, but only if you promise not to say anything,” he said, searching her eyes.
She stared at him, wondering if he was being serious. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, and an inexplicable attraction to Carver, despite everything that had happened between them.
Lucy couldn’t help it. She lost some of her cool but wasn’t that understandable, given her situation?
“You can’t get away with this,” she whispered. “The cops—”
“The cops have been in my family’s pockets for decades,” he cut her off, his tone suddenly cold and distant.
The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. She could see the monster peeking out, and it scared her. Lucy preferred her sweet and thoughtful Carver, but was that version of Carver simply a lie?
“Not a lie. I feel different when I’m with you,” he said, and she realized she must’ve spoken her thoughts out loud.
His expression softened, and she saw a flicker of the man she thought she knew. She swallowed, processing his words and her situation.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“I want you to understand,” he said, leaning closer. “I want you to see that there’s more to me than the monster you think I am.”
“But you tied me up,” she shot back, her voice gaining strength. “You scared me, Carver.”
“I know,” he said, his expression pained. “And I’m sorry. I panicked. When I saw you here, I didn’t know what to do. But I need you to trust me now.”
“How can I trust you after everything?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
He reached out again, this time taking her hands in his.
“Because I care about you, Lucy. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I promise you, I will protect you. Just … please, give me a chance to explain,” Carver urged.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Despite everything, a part of her wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Explain.”
He released her wrists, the bindings falling away. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the circulation return, and watched as Carver took a seat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I didn’t want you to see this side of me,” he began, his voice steady. “But now that you have, I need you to understand why I do what I do. It’s not just about the money or the power. It’s about protecting my family, ensuring our survival in a world that would tear us apart if given the chance.”
