You curled up on the living room couch, waiting. The clock had slipped well past midnight when the front door finally opened and Ryat stepped inside—broad shoulders rigid, jaw clenched.

“You’re late, where were you?” you asked softly.

The glint in his eyes silenced you more than words ever could. Without hesitation, you rose and brought him a glass of water. He sank onto the couch, legs spread wide, loosening his tie with one hand. When you returned, he pressed his gun into your palm.

“Bedroom,” he ordered.

You obeyed, disappearing for only a moment before coming back to stand between his knees. Your fingers brushed against his chest as you worked the knot of his tie. His breath left in a slow exhale, head tilting back, watching you through heavy lashes.

When you finished, he stood, making his way to the bedroom. At the doorway, he looked over his shoulder, his voice dark and commanding.

“Get in the bed.”

You followed, pulse racing, but before you could settle, his voice cut through the silence again—colder this time.

“Why were you talking to Matt after class today? At the university.”

Seated at the edge of the bed, he spread his legs, patting his thigh in a gesture that wasn't a suggestion.

"Come here."