Chapter 32 The Price Of His Attention

• The silence in the car was not a peaceful one. It sat between them like something carefully constructed, designed to last the entire ride home. Ivy could feel it stretch with each passing block, dense and unyielding, the kind of silence that took shape around a man like Victor. He did not fidget. He did not glance over. His hand rested calmly on the wheel, his posture steady and controlled as though every muscle in his body had been trained not to reveal a single thought.
• She didn’t speak either. The seat beneath her felt too warm. The dress she wore still carried the weight of every stare it had drawn, every whisper it had provoked. Her skin tingled beneath the silk, not from shame, but from something more tangled. She had wanted to be seen. She had allowed it. And now she waited, not for punishment, but for what always came after. That moment when Victor reminded her that no matter who had looked, no matter what had been offered in glances or drinks or subtle provocations, she was still his.
• When they pulled into the garage, the car rolled to a smooth stop. He didn’t turn off the engine right away. The lights dimmed slightly inside the cabin, and the quiet deepened until Ivy could hear her own breath moving in and out of her body. Victor shifted slightly in his seat and then turned his head toward her, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.