The weight of his words—her name spoken with chilling certainty—hung between them like a knife suspended on the verge of falling. Auryn's mind raced, calculating and recalibrating, her fingers twitching with the urge to reach for her bracelet's concealed blade.
Elias Thorne, the prodigal prince of a dynasty she loathed, didn't move from his spot by the doorway. His calm, almost lazy stance contrasted with the predatory intensity of his gaze. How much did he know? And, more importantly, how could she salvage this?
"Relax," Elias said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "If I was going to call for security, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"That's oddly generous of you," she replied, her voice sharp and defensive. "What's your angle, Thorne?"
He tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. "That depends. What exactly do you think you're doing here, Auryn Valentine?" He said her name slowly, deliberately, as if savoring its effect on her composure.
"Last I checked, filing reports and fetching champagne didn't involve trespassing into private server rooms. Care to explain that, or should I?"
Auryn squared her shoulders, though her heart hammered like a war drum. "I don't owe you an explanation."
"No, but you do owe me some honesty," he countered, his voice dropping a degree cooler. "And judging by that USB, you've already helped yourself to some truths that belong to me."
Her hand inched toward the terminal, toward the USB still pulsing faintly in the drive.
Elias smirked, catching the subtle movement. "You could try taking it, but I'd bet the Thornes' entire fortune that you won't make it out of here without my permission."
Auryn swallowed back the urge to snap at him. "Why are you stalling? What do you want?"
Elias moved closer, each step slow and measured. He stopped when they were a mere arm's length apart, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the cold hum of the servers.
"I want to know why you're here." His tone softened, but there was no mistaking the iron beneath it. "What could the infamous Damian Thorne possibly have that's worth risking your life over?"
"Funny. I didn't realize you cared," she shot back, masking her mounting panic with defiance.
"I don't," he said flatly, the brief flash of humor vanishing. "But my father might."
His words sent a fresh jolt of alarm through her.
"Ah," he said, his gaze narrowing as though he'd caught her reaction. "So it is about him. I had a feeling. Let me guess—vengeance, blackmail, or a personal vendetta?"
Auryn's lips pressed into a tight line, her mind screaming at her to find an out. Any out.
"Or maybe," he continued, leaning slightly closer, "it's something much more complicated than that."
"Don't pretend you know me," she snapped, stepping back and breaking the spell of proximity.
"Maybe not," he conceded, lifting his hands. "But you didn't get here by accident. You're precise, you're calculated, and you have a reason." His eyes burned into hers. "Don't insult both our intelligences by pretending otherwise."
Silence stretched, and Elias watched her with unnerving patience. There was something maddening about him—his refusal to sound the alarm, his uncanny ability to dissect her motives, and the way he wielded silence like a weapon.
Auryn calculated her options, feeling the ticking seconds slipping like water through her hands. Run? Impossible—he'd corner her before she'd taken two steps. Fight? A gamble she couldn't afford right now. Bluff?
"What I'm after," she said finally, her voice steadying, "is none of your business."
"On the contrary," he said, smiling faintly, "it is now. You see, Auryn Valentine, you've waltzed into my domain, and that makes it very much my business."
The way he spoke her name sent another sharp bolt of unease through her. How had he recognized her? Her cover wasn't perfect, but it shouldn't have cracked so easily, not by Elias of all people.
"Since we seem to have hit a stalemate," he added, leaning casually against the nearest server, "let me make a suggestion. You're obviously in over your head, and you have something I'm now... curious about."
"Curious?" she repeated, disbelief dripping from her voice.
"Don't flatter yourself," he retorted, though his lips quirked in what could have been amusement. "I have better things to do than unravel the tangled threads of your life."
Auryn took a step back toward the door, weighing the risk of bolting versus the risk of staying.
Elias straightened, his expression cooling in an instant. "You won't make it out without help," he warned. "Whatever vendetta you have against Damian, I can assure you he doesn't play fair. If you walk out now, empty-handed, you'll be dead within a week. If you're lucky."
His words struck like a lash, cutting through her bravado.
"And you're offering what, exactly? Protection?" she asked skeptically.
"Let's just say... cooperation," Elias replied. His gaze locked onto hers, and for the first time, Auryn saw something flash in his eyes—something dangerous and calculating, but also strangely genuine.
"If you have something worth risking your life for," he continued, "I'll make you a deal. You tell me the truth, and I won't throw you to the wolves."
Auryn's mind raced. Lies wouldn't work here—not with someone like Elias, whose quiet intensity seemed built to dissect the smallest fractures in a person's facade.
But could she trust him? No. She barely trusted herself.
"That's not a deal," she said tightly. "That's blackmail."
Elias chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "Semantics. Either way, your time's running out, Valentine. What's it going to be?"
Her eyes darted once more to the terminal. If she could just get to the USB…
"What makes you think," she said, meeting his gaze with as much bravado as she could muster, "I won't leave here with everything I came for and your ego bruised?"
His smirk widened slightly, an amused but unfazed reaction to her challenge.
"Try me," he said simply.
The challenge hung heavy in the air, as Auryn finally, slowly, shifted one step closer to the terminal, her mind still racing for options.