She ran. Barefoot. In the damn fucking rain. The streets were cold and slippery, but not as cold as the way she looked at me before she turned away.

I didn’t care about the thunder, the cameras that might catch me, or this thousand-dollar shoes soaking in puddles I never thought I’d step in.

"You think walking away will undo everything, darling?" I muttered under my breath, jaw clenched, eyes locked on her silhouette. "Because if you do… you don’t know a damn thing about me."

She stumbled slightly, and my heart skipped. Not out of fear, but fury. She should be in my penthouse. Wrapped in warmth. In my arms. Not crying in the dark like I never would’ve moved the world just to hear her laugh.

I caught up to her, grabbed her wrist gently— but firm enough to stop her. She froze.

"Don’t run from me barefoot again," I said, low and deadly calm. "You have no idea how close I am to losing every ounce of control I’ve ever had."