I didn’t think
I just ran.
Before he could reach the door, I grabbed his hand—tight, desperate, like if I let go I would disappear.
“I don’t want Divyanka here,” I blurted out. “I’m fine like this. Really. I don’t need her here.”
He turned sharply, surprised.
“But tell me one thing,” I continued, my voice trembling. “What did you mean by don’t do it while sleeping under my roof?”
My grip loosened.
“That really hurt me,” I whispered. “It made me feel like I’m a stranger to you.”
My throat closed. “Do I mean that little to you?”
Karl’s expression changed instantly.
Not anger.
Alarm.
was calm… but underneath it, something dangerous lurked.
“Yes,” I said, trying not to tremble. “It’s fine. I’ll… manage.”
He smirked, almost predatory.
“Manage? You’re wearing the exact dress to make everyone notice you… but do you realize you’re still…” He paused, voice dropping low, “on your period?”
Heat rushed to my face.
“Oh…” I muttered, looking away.
He stepped closer. Just close enough that I felt his presence, overpowering, protective, possessive.
“Don’t worry,” he said, voice almost gentle, almost soft.
“I’ve taken care of it.”
I looked at him. “T-taken care…?”
“Yes.” His eyes darkened. “Nothing will embarrass you tonight. No one will see anything they shouldn’t. You’ll be mine to the last second.”
I gulped. The boldness of the dress suddenly felt safer, knowing he was there.
I nodded quietly. “Okay…”
He held out his hand.
The same hand that had caught me, carried me, protected me, controlled me in ways I couldn’t always understand.
I took it.
We stepped out together.
The night was waiting.
Lights. People. Cameras. Gossip. Danger.
And karl Casanova was by my side—watching me, protecting me, marking me as his.
Even now, my heart pounded at the thought:
I might be exposed. Vulnerable. Reckless. But with him… I wasn’t afraid.
Not yet.
Not when he was there.
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