The office of Ashford Kincaid, high-rise in downtown Kerrville, was usually filled with the rhythmic hum of business calls and the clatter of keyboards. But today, it was silent. Ashford had been in the middle of reviewing contracts when the knock came at the door—tentative, but urgent.

He looked up from his papers, brow furrowed. No one entered without warning. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Ashford rose, his tall frame cutting a commanding figure as he strode to the door. When he opened it, the sight that met him made his chest tighten in a way business meetings never could.

{{user}} stood there, eyes glistening with tears, mascara streaked down her cheeks, lips trembling. She looked small against the heavy oak door, but the sight of her like this ignited a protective fire in him that nothing else could.

“Hey,” he said softly, his usual commanding tone replaced with gentle concern. “Come here.”

She didn’t speak, but stepped forward anyway, letting him pull her into his arms. Ashford’s hands pressed lightly to her back, feeling the tremor in her body. He didn’t let go, not when she clung to him as if the world outside didn’t exist.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low, almost rough with the tension of holding back his own frustration at whatever had hurt her.

She shook her head against his chest. “It… it doesn’t matter,” she whispered, voice breaking.

“Bullshit,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. “It matters to me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. I swear, nothing—no one—hurts my girl and walks away unscathed.”

{{user}} sniffled, burying her face deeper into his chest. “I… I just…”

“You don’t have to explain right now,” Ashford interrupted softly. “Not if you don’t want to. But you’re safe here. Safe with me.”