Chapter 11

• "M-Mr. Revelar..." I stuttered as we entered his condo unit. "We left m-my car,” I hesitated. My voice sounded small, almost fragile in the vast space of the modern condo. The echo of my words seemed to linger longer than expected, bouncing off the walls and furniture, amplifying the awkwardness that I already felt. I shifted from foot to foot, feeling the tension coil in my stomach like a tightly wound spring.
• He didn't answer and just glared at me. His dark eyes were sharp and unyielding, cutting through the air with the weight of authority. I could feel the pressure of his gaze, almost like it was physically pressing against me, and I instinctively shrank a little. My palms were slightly sweaty, and I swallowed hard, attempting to regain composure despite the racing of my heart.
• "Does it still hurt?" he asked flatly. His voice was calm but carried that unmistakable undercurrent of command. The way he asked it, without any warmth, made my stomach twist in nervous anticipation. I could sense that the question was not just about a physical wound; it carried the weight of previous encounters, the memories that neither of us would admit out loud.