Chapter eight

~CHAPTER EIGHT~

And Hardin?

He’s already putting the gun away, calm as if he just ended a meeting, not a life.

The warehouse seems to shrink around me as panic swallows my lungs whole.

I witnessed a murder.

A murder done for me.

And there’s no going back.

Hardin’s shadow falls over me, long and heavy, and when I look up at him, my voice barely works.

“I… I didn’t ask you to kill him,” I whisper, shaking so hard my teeth almost chatter. “I only wanted the tape gone.”

He stares at me with those cold, unreadable eyes that don’t blink, don’t soften, don’t care about the violence staining the floor behind him.

A man of few words.

“Get up,” he says simply.

My body moves before my mind does.

I don’t hesitate.

I don’t breathe wrong.

One wrong move and I could end up beside Steve, blood pooling around my hair.

When I’m on my feet, he lets out a low laugh, barely a sound, just a curl of amusement at the corner of his mouth. A smirk pretending to be a chuckle.

“We’re going to be good partners,” he murmurs.

Partners.

I don’t even know what that means in his world.

He jerks his chin at two men standing nearby.

“Clean it. Now.”

They move instantly, dragging Steve’s body like trash being taken out.

I can’t look.

I can’t breathe.

Hardin turns and walks out, not checking if I follow but I do. Of course I do.

Because the alternative is staying inside with a corpse.

I trail behind him, heart pounding so loudly it feels like it echoes off the walls.

Once outside, he opens the back door of a sleek black car.

I get in.

I’m too terrified to ask where we’re going, too consumed by the image of Steve’s lifeless eyes.

Hardin slides in beside me, the leather creaking under his weight, and the driver pulls away without a word.

The car is silent except for the hum of the engine and my shallow breathing.

The scene I witnessed claws at my mind, ripping open a trauma I spent years burying.

It all feels too familiar, too close to a nightmare I swore I left behind.

My hands won’t stop shaking.

Hardin doesn’t look at me, but his presence fills the entire car heavy, dangerous, inescapable.

I’ve gotten myself into something worse than Steve.

Much worse.

This man…

This man kills with no hesitation.

The city lights blur outside as the ride drags on, the silence tightening like a rope around my throat.

Finally, the car slows.

I see danger and I’m walking into it.

Because Hardin told me to.

And because I can’t say no.

The car glides through the city and stops in front of my hotel, the one I checked into just last night, before my entire world flipped upside down.

The engine goes quiet.

Hardin signals his driver with a flick of his fingers.

The man nods, steps out, and closes the door behind him.

Now it’s just the two of us in the dark back seat.

My pulse spikes.

If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t need privacy—so what the hell does he want?

He finally turns his head, his gaze cutting through me like a blade.

“What happened back there?” he asks.

His voice is low, calm, too calm like he already knows the right answer and is waiting to see if I’m stupid enough to say the wrong one.

This is a test.

A big one.

I swallow hard, clear my throat, and force my voice to stay steady.

“Nothing happened,” I say quietly.

For a second, nothing moves.

Then his mouth curves into a slow, wide smile, one that looks like it could destroy me.

“Now I see why you’re young and successful,” he murmurs.

“Smart girl.”

My heart is thudding so hard it feels bruised.

But I manage a stiff nod.

“Thank you… for everything,” I whisper.

“Can I go now?”

“Mm.”

He nods once.

“Yes.”

Relief floods me so fast my vision blurs. I reach for the car door handle.

“Not so fast.”

His voice slices through the air.

My hand jerks back like I’ve touched fire.

I turn slowly, afraid of what comes next.

Hardin leans back, legs spread, arm draped casually over the seat calm, powerful, terrifyingly in control.

“Here’s the deal,” he says.

I hold my breath.

“From now on, you work for me. Privately. Whenever I need you, wherever I need you.”

My head spins.

That… isn’t bad.

Compared to blackmail and murder?

Being a personal hostess is practically a blessing.

A fair deal, I think.

If that was all.

But Hardin’s gaze sharpens like a knife.

“And one more thing.”

I tense.

His next words are soft… but they hit harder than the gunshot that killed Steve.

“You’ll marry me.”

Everything inside me stops.

Thoughts. Breath. Blood.

“What…?” I croak.

His expression doesn’t change.

He says it like he’s announcing the weather.

“You heard me.”