Shit, and now my inner Omega is chiming in.
“What changed?” I ask quietly, looking anywhere but at him.
He’s silent for a while, then finally:
“Nothing changed.”
I’m more confused than ever. “You punched a hole in the wall when I first showed up,” I add.
“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I scoff. Why is he apologizing to me now?
Regardless, he won’t help me. He was my last chance at getting out of here.
“So, you really won’t take me?” I ask quietly, my hopes crushed.
His eyes burn into mine, and he shakes his head.
What. The.Fuck.
I could run away, or at least try.
But I’m pretty sure a random woman limping down the streets of a private neighborhood might raise some eyebrows.
I can’t even order a rideshare.
I’m literallytrappedhere.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, as if that will make everything better.
But I’m sick of hearingI’m sorry.
“No, you’re not,” I say quietly. “If you were sorry, you would help me.”
I leave his office, refusing to look back as I shut the door behind me.
Walking down the hallway, I run into Killian.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he purrs. “Sleep well?”
“Get fucked,” I snap, walking away.
His laughter trails behind me.
* * *
I spendthe next week exploring the house.
Well, limping through the house.
Brock’s house is an architect’s dream, and I adore it.
Though, I would never admit it to him. I complimented him enough with his setup, which I’m extremely jealous of.
I’m sure our conversation is what led him to change his mind about me, regardless of what he says.
Brock’s house isstunning.It’s modern and a simplistic design, with cream walls and dark wood floors. A gorgeous staircase breaks off into two separate sets and leads to the upper floors, but for now, I’m stuck using the elevator.