Every time Felicia needed to leave the Russell estate, she relied on Kenneth for a ride to town. But once there, she insisted he return without her, always arranging her own way back, usually by cab. Kenneth had followed her instructions meticulously, but tonight, that wasn't enough to satisfy Stephan.

Stephan glared at him, then turned and headed for the door. His determined stride left no doubt he would personally collect her. But as he reached the entrance, headlights flickered outside, and the sound of a cab made him pause.

Felicia emerged, carrying herself with her usual nonchalance. "Thanks. Just wait a moment," she told the driver before heading toward the house.

She met Stephan in the doorway. "Oh, hey," she greeted casually, barely pausing as she slipped past him. Stephan remained motionless, his expression unreadable, though his dark eyes followed her into the house.

Upstairs, Felicia went straight to the guest room, her temporary refuge. She began packing, carefully stowing the jars of ointments and vials of herbal concoctions she'd spent days perfecting. Each bottle was a small treasure, the result of painstaking work and her natural talent for medicinal remedies. They were particularly effective for healing wounds, and she was sure they'd fetch a good price, helping to cover her newly rented apartment—her next step toward independence.

With her bag packed, Felicia slung it over her shoulder and headed for the stairs, only to find her path blocked. Stephan stood at the top, his tall frame illuminated by the hallway lights. His expression remained unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable.

"It's eleven o'clock," he said, his deep voice laced with restrained frustration. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going back to campus," Felicia replied calmly.

Stephan's eyes narrowed. She was lying; he saw it in the slight lift of her chin, the overly casual tone. The campus was closed for the holiday break. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice cool, but dangerous.

"Yes," Felicia replied, her face impassive.

Stephan stepped closer, his presence making the narrow landing feel smaller. "Are you so eager to cut ties with me?" His words were low, laced with mockery.

Felicia leaned against the railing for distance, but Stephan didn't move. He leaned in, his features inches from hers.

"We don't have any ties to cut," Felicia countered quietly.

Something dark flashed in Stephan's eyes—a dangerous glint that hinted at a mood shift.

Before she could respond, she was lifted into the air.

"Stephan!" she yelped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her effortlessly down the hallway. For a brief, panicked moment, she feared he might throw her over the railing.

Instead, he strode into the master bedroom and gently placed her on the oversized bed. The mattress was so soft Felicia bounced slightly, her bag falling to the floor. Stephan knelt on the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. The shadows in the dimly lit room heightened the intensity of his gaze, his eyes burning with emotions Felicia couldn't decipher.

"Stephan..." she began, but he leaned down, his face close, his breath warm against her cheek. In the faint moonlight, she saw the sharp angles of his face, the tension in his jaw, and the fiery determination in his eyes.

"If you even consider going to Arnold again, I'll make sure he regrets it," Stephan growled, his voice low and threatening. Then, his tone firm and possessive: "And it's not just him. You're not allowed to go to anyone else."