Stephan’s warm breath brushed against Felicia’s ear, making her spine tingle. Combined with his teasing, innuendo-laden tone, the atmosphere was intensely charged. The storeroom was pitch-black, illuminated only by the faint light seeping through cracks in the door. Despite the darkness, Felicia felt Stephan’s gaze burning upon her.

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s either friends or nothing. No middle ground.”

Stephan chuckled, his hold around her waist tightening. He clearly wasn't letting her go.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “You weren’t talking about ‘just friends’ when you were begging me last time.”

The suggestive edge to his tone startled Felicia, her mind flashing back to that night. She’d been drugged by Arnold and barely holding it together until Stephan found her and rescued her from the Lawson residence. Once her defenses crumbled, everything else seemed inevitable.

For a moment, guilt flickered in Felicia’s heart. She had been rather cold afterward, hadn't she? After getting what she needed, she'd walked away without looking back.

Quickly, she changed the subject. “I can make it up to you!” she blurted.

Stephan’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. He seemed to be debating whether to laugh or strangle her.

Sensing his frustration, Felicia leaned back slightly and added, “Come on, we’ve been over this. That night wasn’t some grand affair. It was mutual consent between consenting adults having fun. No big deal. No need to overreact.”

Her words struck a nerve. Stephan’s brows furrowed. He leaned closer, his gaze piercing, dissecting her very soul.

Felicia sighed inwardly, aware of how blunt her words sounded. She couldn't deny the attraction she felt; his chiseled face, magnetic presence, and intensity were undeniably captivating. But she couldn't trust him, let alone depend on him, just because her heart wavered.

She was hard-hearted and unfeeling—always calculating, always guarded, always doubting others' sincerity. Like a stubborn stone—impossible to warm, impossible to break. And besides, she barely knew Stephan. What little she did know came from rumors. He was a mystery, cloaked in danger and allure—tempting and untouchable.

His presence in Khogend wasn't coincidental. He clearly had a purpose, and she was a small, incidental part of his plans. Or worse… a distraction.

She hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Russell, you must have had something important to deal with in Khogend. Is there anything I can do to help?”

His dark, piercing eyes bore into her, a storm brewing beneath his composed exterior. To her surprise, he seemed angry. Why? Could his reason for being here be… her? No way. She wouldn't flatter herself.

Stephan’s low voice broke the tension. “I thought something had happened to you.”

Felicia froze.