...twist with uncertainty.
"Run, if you want," Pierce murmured, his voice eerily soft. "But know this, Elsie—I'll always find you."
My heart pounded at the quiet threat in his words. It wasn't a warning. It was a promise.
I turned toward the door, every muscle in my body screaming at me to leave. But as my fingers curled around the doorknob, I hesitated. I could feel his presence behind me, unmoving, unwavering. He was waiting—watching—to see what choice I would make.
I should leave. I should run and never look back.
But a part of me knew... escaping Pierce James wouldn't be that simple.
And worse—somewhere deep inside, a terrifying realization settled in.
A part of me wasn't sure if I wanted to.
Silence stretched between us, so thick I could hear my own breathing—fast, unsteady, erratic. My fingers still gripped the doorknob, but I didn't move. Behind me, Pierce remained silent, yet I could feel his gaze burning into my back.
I swallowed hard, trying to summon the courage to turn the knob and step away. But as I shifted it slightly, his footsteps approached—slow, deliberate, certain.
"Elsie," his voice was close now, almost a whisper against my ear. "If you open that door, I won't stop you."
My body tensed.
"But if you stay," he continued, his voice dipping lower, darker, "you'll have to face something you won't be able to escape."
I sucked in a sharp breath.
"And what is that?" I wanted to ask.
But I didn't dare say it aloud.
Another stretch of silence, thick with something unspoken, before I felt the warmth of his presence behind me. Not touching, but so close I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"If you stay, Elsie," he murmured, his voice turning into a dangerous whisper, "I won't let you leave again."
My fingers trembled on the doorknob.
My choice hung in the air, swinging between fear and something deeper—something far more dangerous than Pierce's threat.
I should leave.
But in that moment, a realization sent a shiver down my spine:
I didn't move. I remained standing there.
And Pierce smiled. I knew it, even without seeing him.
The air between us crackled with tension. My pulse thundered in my ears as my grip on the doorknob tightened. Every rational thought in my mind screamed at me to turn it, to push the door open, to step into the world beyond Pierce James and never look back.
But I didn't move.
Not when his breath ghosted against my skin. Not when his fingers, slow and deliberate, brushed against my wrist.
"Good girl," he murmured, the approval in his voice sending a dangerous shiver down my spine. "I knew you wouldn't run."
I squeezed my eyes shut. "I should."
"But you won't." His words were absolute, laced with the quiet confidence of a man who had never been wrong. "Because deep down, you know something, don't you?"
I swallowed hard. "What?"
A pause. Then, so close I could feel the warmth of his lips near my ear, he whispered,
"You don't want to be free of me."
A sharp inhale lodged in my throat. I hated how easily he unraveled me, how effortlessly he reached into the darkest corners of my mind and pulled out truths I wasn't ready to face.
His fingers traced the delicate line of my wrist, his touch featherlight yet commanding. "You think you can fight it, Elsie. Fight me."
He was right. I had spent so long convincing myself I wanted to escape him. That I needed to.
But in this moment, standing on the edge of a decision that could change everything, I knew the truth.
I didn't want to run.
And the most terrifying part?
Pierce James had known it all along.
I stood there, my breath caught between fear and something far more dangerous. Something that made me want to stay within Pierce James's grasp even though I knew it could destroy me.
My fingers were still wrapped around the doorknob, but my strength seemed to melt as his hand slid onto my shoulder, his touch almost like a caress. "You're trembling," his voice was soft, teasing, as if he found amusement in my unease.
"I'm not afraid of you," I whispered, though we both knew it was a lie.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating in the biting silence. "No?" His fingers trailed up to my neck, his thumb brushing slowly along my skin, stealing the air from my lungs. "Then why is your heartbeat racing like a storm?"
I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way he affected me. But Pierce wasn't someone who could be ignored. He was a storm that devoured everything in its path, and I… I was caught in its eye.
"I can leave," I tried to convince myself more than him.
"You can," he said, his voice unreadable. "But you won't."
I felt his body move closer, the heat of him swallowing me whole, clouding my mind even further. "Give me one reason why I should stay," I challenged, though I knew I was playing with fire.
Silence stretched between us for a moment. Then, before I could think any further, Pierce moved swiftly, his hand gripping my jaw gently, forcing me to look directly into his eyes.
"Because you're mine, Elsie," he said, his tone low and filled with an unshakable certainty that sent shivers down my spine. "And I have no intention of letting you go."
I knew I should fight back. I should reject his claim over me. But as his gaze burned into my soul with an intensity I couldn't escape, I realized one thing.
I had already fallen too deep.
And Pierce James was the only one who could catch me—or destroy me.
The air between us crackled with something dangerous—something I couldn't name, but I could feel it sinking into my bones. Pierce's fingers remained firm against my jaw, holding me in place as if he was daring me to deny him.
"Say it," he murmured, his breath brushing against my lips.
I swallowed hard. "Say what?"
His eyes darkened, a slow smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "That you belong to me."
My pulse hammered against my ribs. I wanted to push him away, to break free from whatever hold he had on me. But my body betrayed me, leaning ever so slightly toward him.
"Let me go," I whispered instead.
Pierce tilted his head, considering me. "You think I'm keeping you here?"
A lump formed in my throat. Wasn't he?
He loosened his grip, his touch featherlight now. "You can walk away, Elsie. Right now. No one's stopping you."
I hesitated. My mind screamed at me to leave—to run and never look back. But my feet remained rooted in place.
He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "See? You don't want to leave."
I tore my gaze from his, glaring at the door as if it held all the answers. "This is a mistake."
"Maybe," he admitted, his voice almost too soft. "But some mistakes are worth making."
Before I could react, he reached for my hand, bringing it to his chest. Beneath my trembling fingers, I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Strong. Unyielding.
"Tell me you don't feel this," he said, his tone a challenge. "Tell me you don't want this."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Because the truth was terrifying.
I did want this.
I wanted him.
And that scared me more than anything else.
Silence wrapped around us, the only sound was our ragged breaths. I could feel the heat of his body so close, almost searing my skin.
"Elsie," he murmured, his fingers trailing along my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw with a tenderness that contrasted with the way he had held me earlier. "I want to hear your voice."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I..."
I what? I should leave? I was afraid? Or, if I was being completely honest—I wanted him?
Pierce waited, his sharp eyes studying my expression. There was something behind his gaze that made me feel unsteady.
Before I could find the answer, he moved. Both of his hands framed my face now, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks, as if reassuring me.
"I can give you time, Elsie," he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous patience. "But I want you to know one thing."
I held my breath as he lowered his face, his lips barely brushing against my ear.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, his tone unyielding, like a promise that couldn't be broken. "I'll always be here. Until you admit it yourself."
I bit my lip, my heart hammering with a rhythm too erratic. "And what if I never admit it?" I asked softly, my voice barely steady.
Pierce smiled faintly, a mix of patience and arrogance in his expression. "We both know that's not possible."
He pulled back slightly, giving me a space that only made me ache. As if he was giving me a choice. But I knew better—this wasn't a choice at all. It was a battle that was slowly consuming me, blurring the lines between us.
I could leave. I could break free.
But I didn't.
And when Pierce realized that, he let out a quiet laugh, full of triumph.
His laughter was soft, almost mocking, but there was something else beneath it—satisfaction. As if he had been waiting for this moment, knowing it would come.
I swallowed hard, willing myself to step back, to break the invisible thread that held me in place. But before I could, Pierce lifted my chin with two fingers, tilting my face up until our eyes met.
"You're not running," he observed, his voice low, smug. "Interesting."
I clenched my fists. "Maybe I should."
His smile widened, his thumb tracing over my bottom lip in a slow, deliberate motion. "But you won't."
A sharp breath escaped me. His confidence was infuriating, but worse than that—it was right.
"Tell me, Elsie," he murmured, his fingers sliding to my throat, resting just over the rapid beat of my pulse. "Are you afraid of me?"
I should have said yes. I should have shoved him away, turned on my heel, and never looked back.
But my silence was answer enough.
Pierce exhaled through his nose, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Not afraid, then. Good."
He leaned in, so close that his breath fanned against my skin. "But you are something, aren't you? Conflicted? Curious?" His fingers tightened just slightly, just enough to make my breath hitch. "Or is it something more?"
I gritted my teeth. "You're enjoying this too much."
He chuckled. "Oh, Elsie. You have no idea."
And then—he let go.
The sudden loss of contact left a strange, cold emptiness in its wake. My body tensed, waiting, anticipating.
But Pierce simply took a step back, hands in his pockets, watching me like he had all the time in the world.
"Go," he said simply. "Run, if you want."
I hesitated.
His eyes darkened, the amusement in them laced with something more dangerous.
"But if you stay, Elsie..." His voice dropped, slow and deliberate. "Then stop pretending you don't want this."
The air between us crackled with something unspoken.
And this time, I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to resist it.
Silence.
I could hear my own breathing—shallow, restless. I should leave now, take a deep breath, open the door, and run as far as possible from this man. But my feet were rooted in place, as if this room had trapped me in an invisible snare.
Pierce was still standing there, watching me with those dark, piercing eyes, as if he were waiting for something. Or maybe... testing me.
"I'm curious," his voice whispered through the air, sweet like poison. "Are you waiting for me to pull you back?"
I shook my head quickly, trying to shut down whatever game he was playing. "You're wrong," I said, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be.
His smile deepened, but there was something more behind it—something that shattered my defenses faster than I could realize.
"Wrong?" He stepped closer, shrinking the space between us. "Prove it."
I swallowed hard, but my body refused to move.
He came even closer, his breath warming my cheek. "Show me, Elsie," he whispered, his tone not just a challenge—but a plea.
I needed to leave. I had to end this now before it became deeper, harder to escape.
But when Pierce lifted his hand, letting his fingers trace the curve of my jaw so lightly, I couldn't suppress the small shiver that slipped beneath my skin.
"God," he murmured, his voice almost satisfied. "You really can't run from me, can you?"
I wanted to deny it, to reject every single word that left his mouth.
But the terrifying truth began to sink into my mind—
He was right.
I was already caught in his web.
And maybe... I had never really wanted to escape.
Pierce's fingers lingered against my skin, his touch featherlight, yet it burned as if it had left a mark. I should have pulled away. I should have shoved him aside, thrown open the door, and disappeared into the night.
But I didn't.
Instead, I stood there, caught between fear and something far more dangerous—an undeniable pull that kept me tethered to him.
Pierce's smirk deepened, as if he could read every thought racing through my mind. "Still not moving," he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. "What does that tell me, Elsie?"
My breath hitched. I couldn't let him win this game.
Forcing myself to break free from his gaze, I reached for the door handle again, fingers tightening around the cold metal. But before I could turn it, Pierce moved—fast, effortless—his body pressing against my back, his hands bracing on either side of me.
Trapped.
A slow, agonizing silence stretched between us before his lips brushed just below my ear. "Go on," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. "Leave."
It wasn't a demand. It was a challenge.
And he knew, just as I did, that the moment I stepped out of this room—if I even could—I would never really be free of him.
Not when the air still carried his scent.
Not when my skin still remembered the heat of his touch.
Not when my heart still beat a little too fast in his presence.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to silence the war inside me. But then—Pierce moved even closer, his breath grazing the nape of my neck, his next words shattering what little resistance I had left.
"Or," he whispered, his voice like silk against my skin, "stay."
I exhaled sharply, my resolve unraveling thread by thread.
Because the worst part of all this?
I wasn't sure which choice scared me more.
The silence between us was deafening. Every second stretched impossibly long, heavy with the weight of a decision I wasn't ready to make.
I could feel Pierce behind me—his warmth, his presence—every bit as suffocating as it was intoxicating.
I should go.
I should run.
But my body refused to obey.
Pierce chuckled softly, a dark, knowing sound. "You're thinking too much, Elsie." His fingers brushed against my arm, barely a touch, yet enough to send a shiver down my spine. "But I can hear your answer in the way you haven't moved."
I swallowed hard. "You're wrong."
He hummed, unconvinced. "Am I?"
His hands finally left the door, giving me space—daring me to make the choice myself. But before I could turn the handle, he leaned in again, his breath warm against my skin.
"Tell me, Elsie," he murmured, voice low, hypnotic. "Is it fear keeping you here?"
I stiffened.
Or something else?
He didn't say it. He didn't have to. The implication was there, woven into every syllable, pressing into me like the weight of his gaze.
I shook my head, more at myself than at him. "This is a mistake."
Pierce exhaled a quiet laugh, stepping back just enough for me to breathe—but not enough for me to forget that he was still there, still watching. "Maybe," he admitted, almost lazily. "But mistakes, my darling, are far more interesting than regrets."
His words wrapped around me, coiling tight. My fingers twitched on the door handle.
He was letting me go.
I knew that.
And yet...
"One last chance, Elsie." His voice was softer now, almost gentle, but beneath it was the same inescapable gravity that had held me in place all along. "Stay. Or run. But decide now."
The weight of the choice pressed down on me.
And as my breath shuddered past my lips, I realized something terrifying.
No matter which choice I made tonight—
Pierce James would never really let me go.
I didn't move.
Not forward, not back. I just stood there, my fingers still curled around the door handle, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Pierce waited. Silent. Unshaken.
The air between us crackled with something dark, something electric. I wanted to believe it was fear keeping me rooted in place. But deep down, I knew better.
He knew better.
A slow exhale left his lips. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached me, he said, "That's what I thought."
The next second, he was behind me again, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body against my back. His fingers, careful but firm, pried mine from the door handle one by one.
I should've stopped him.
I didn't.
Instead, I let him turn me around, let his hands settle against my arms. The way he looked at me—like he had already won—made something inside me twist.
"Say it," he murmured.
I swallowed hard. "Say what?"
His thumb brushed against my wrist, tracing the rapid pulse there. "Say you don't want this."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Pierce's lips curved into something dangerously close to a smirk. "You can't, can you?"
God, I hated him.
I hated how easily he unraveled me. How effortlessly he got under my skin.
But what I hated most... was that he was right.
I tore my gaze from his, but he wasn't having it. His fingers caught my chin, tilting my face back up. His eyes—dark, intense—searched mine for something, though I wasn't sure what.
And then, just as I was about to speak, he leaned in.
His lips barely grazed mine, a whisper of a touch, and yet it sent a violent shiver down my spine.
I clenched my fists. "Pierce—"
"Shh," he interrupted, his voice a low murmur against my mouth. "No more running, Elsie."
And then, before I could think, before I could breathe—
He kissed me.