Stanley’s mask slipped.
Just for a second, the smooth, controlled expression faltered, his lips parting, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Annoyance. Irritation. But he recovered quickly, straightening his tie.
Daniel didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“We’ll take this to the boss,” he said flatly. “He doesn’t appreciate… misunderstandings.”
Stanley’s mouth opened, protests already forming—but Daniel’s glare cut him off.
“Get in the car, Livvy.”
His voice left no room for argument.
Livvy hesitated, glancing at her parents. One last, desperate look. Her mother wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her father’s jaw was tight, unreadable. They weren’t going to stop her.
They weren’t going to help her, either.
Fine. If they wouldn’t save her, she’d save herself.
She moved before she could change her mind, slipping past Stanley, past the suffocating walls of her childhood home, stepping out into the sharp bite of the evening air.
Daniel followed close behind, his hand warm against the small of her back, guiding her toward the car. He yanked the passenger door open, nodding once. “In.”
Livvy slid inside, heart racing, hands shaking in her lap.
The moment the door shut, Daniel peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching against the pavement.
Only when they were miles away did he finally speak.
“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet now, low and steady.
Livvy bit her lip so hard it hurt.
She nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. “If you hadn’t come—”
“I saw him through the window.” Daniel’s voice was dark. Lethal. “Knew that piece of shit wouldn’t let you leave. Had to think fast.”
She swallowed, throat tight. “I… I don’t know what I would have done.”
Daniel didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled into a drive-thru. The smell of greasy fries filled the car. Livvy blinked at him.
Daniel just shrugged, passing her a burger. “Eat.”
The weight in her chest cracked, just a little. Her fingers trembled around the wrapper, her throat too tight to swallow. But she took a bite anyway, the familiarity of it pulling her back, grounding her.
They used to do this. When they were younger. Before everything.
Her voice was small when she finally spoke. “I miss Michael.”
Daniel’s mouth tightened. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The silence sat between them, thick with too much unsaid. By the time they pulled up to Storm’s mansion, Livvy’s pulse had finally settled, exhaustion pressing heavy against her bones.
But the moment the car rolled to a stop, the tension snapped back into place. Because Storm was already waiting. Standing on the steps, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression thunderous.
The moment his gaze landed on them—on Daniel—his scowl deepened, eyes cutting.
Daniel barely smirked. “Miss me?”
Storm’s jaw clenched.
“Shut the fuck up.”