“I know my father was here yesterday. What did you two talk about?”

Demetri’s voice is calm, but his eyes are sharp.

“He just wanted to know what was going on around here,” I say, meeting his gaze without hesitation.

Demetri tilts his head slightly, he doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push either. Instead, he leans back against his desk, arms crossing over his broad chest.

“If you’re lying, I’ll find out anyway.” His voice is edged with warning.

I shrug. “Then I guess you’ll find out.”

His jaw tightens as he nods toward the door. “You can go back to work.”

I don’t say anything. I just turn and walk out, my head high. I won’t let him see that his presence rattles me. Not today.

The day drags on. I bury myself in work, trying not to think about Demetri or his father or the mess I’m stuck in.

By the time I finally look up, most of the office is empty. I don’t realize how late it is until I hear footsteps. I glance to my side.

Demetri stands by my desk, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

“It’s after hours. You’re not going home?”

I blink, checking the clock. I didn’t even notice how dark it got outside.

“I guess I lost track of time.” I shut my laptop.

“Let me drive you home.”

I shake my head. “I can get home myself.”

Demetri exhales, like he expected that. “I’m making sure you get home safe. Let’s go.”

I could argue, but I’m too tired to fight him on this. So, I grab my bag and follow him out.

The car ride is quiet. Too quiet.

I keep my eyes trained on the window, pretending I’m not aware of him beside me. But I am. I’m very aware. The way his hands grip the steering wheel, the way his presence fills the space between us, the way his side profile is unfairly sharp and irritatingly attractive.

I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not when I’m still figuring out what the hell I’m going to do.

The silence stretches until Demetri finally speaks. “I have to make a stop. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

I barely glance at him. “It’s fine.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes a turn off the main road, pulling into a dimly lit area. It takes me a moment to realize where we are.

A cemetery.

I watch as Demetri steps out of the car, retrieving two bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He doesn’t say anything as he walks up a small hill, stopping at a pair of graves.

For a while, he just stands there, his back to me, unmoving.

I don’t know what to do. This side of him, silent and reverent feels unfamiliar. I should probably look away, give him his privacy. But something about the moment feels too raw to ignore.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally walks back to the car. His expression is as unreadable as ever as he slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

I hesitate before speaking. “People you lost recently?”

“No,” he says after a pause. “My biological parents.”

I turn to him fully now. “Your biological parents?”

He nods, eyes fixed on the road.

“I—” I stop myself, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t know. I always assumed Mr. Reginald was your father.”

“He is,” Demetri says simply. “I never met my biological parents.”

There’s something heavy in his voice, something unspoken. But he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he keeps driving, the tension in the car thickening with every passing second.

Then, he takes a breath. “I know what my father came to talk to you about.”

We pull up in front of my apartment.

I reach for the door, but before I can step out, Demetri is already there. He opens his own door, waits for me to come around to his side, and stops me.

Before I can react, his hand wraps around my wrist and he pushes me back gently against the car.

His touch isn’t forceful, but it’s firm. Intentional.

His body is close—too close. I can feel his warmth through his clothes, can smell the clean, sharp scent of him.

“You don’t want to be involved with my family,” he says. His voice is low, serious. “It’s a mess. I don’t want that for you.”

His eyes hold mine, dark and intense.

“I’ll take care of my child,” he continues. “But I don’t want you caught up in this. Trust me—you wouldn’t want to be.”

For a moment, I can’t think, not about the contract, not about his father, not about the consequences of everything that’s happened.

All I can think about is how close he is. How his presence is overwhelming. How, for a second, I remember the night we spent together, the way his hands felt on me, the way his lips tasted.

But I force myself to push those thoughts away.

Slowly, deliberately, I pull my wrist from his grasp.

“I’ll make that decision for myself,” I say, steadying myself.

Demetri holds my gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he lets go.

Without another word, I turn and walk into my house, leaving him standing by his car.