Chapter 12: A Storm Unleashed

The mansion was eerily silent, the kind of silence that weighed heavy in the air, suffocating and thick with unspoken tension. Jenny sat curled up on the oversized leather chair in Marcus’s office, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace. The warmth of the fire did little to ease the chill running through her veins.

Marcus had been gone for hours.

She tried to tell herself that this was normal—that this was the life he led. But something about tonight felt different. The way he had looked at her before he left, the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on her wrist, as if he was afraid to let go.

A knock on the door made her jump.

She turned just as Rafael stepped inside, his dark eyes scanning the room before settling on her. He didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the space between them with the careful grace of a man who had seen too much.

“You should get some rest,” he finally said, his voice low.

Jenny let out a hollow laugh. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Rafael sighed, leaning against the desk. “You care about him.”

She looked away, not trusting herself to answer.

Rafael tilted his head, studying her. “You don’t belong in this world, Jenny.”

Her jaw tightened. “Then why am I here?”

“Because Marcus doesn’t let go of the things he wants.”

The truth in those words sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could respond, the distant roar of engines echoed through the night. Jenny shot to her feet, rushing to the window. Headlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the long driveway.

Marcus was home.

But something was wrong.

She could see it in the way the cars came to a sudden, jerking halt. In the way the men poured out, their movements sharp, tense.

Then she saw him.

Marcus stepped out of the car, blood staining his shirt, his face shadowed in the dim light.

Jenny barely registered Rafael’s curse before she was running.

She reached the grand entrance just as Marcus staggered through the doors. His dark eyes found hers instantly, something raw and unreadable in their depths.

“Marcus!” She grabbed his arm, her fingers pressing against the warmth of his skin. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but his voice was strained.

Rafael appeared at his side, gripping his other arm. “Like hell you are.”

Jenny felt the heat of Marcus’s gaze on her as she helped him toward the grand staircase. His breathing was uneven, his body tense under her touch. She didn’t know if it was from pain or something else entirely.

They barely made it to his bedroom before his legs gave out. Jenny gasped as he sank onto the bed, his weight pulling her down with him.

“Get me the med kit,” Marcus ordered, his voice rough.

Rafael hesitated for a moment before nodding and disappearing into the hall.

Jenny turned back to Marcus, her hands trembling as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. Blood soaked through the fabric, sticking to his skin.

“Marcus, what happened?”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her movements. “Not now.”

His voice was a warning, but she ignored it. “You can’t just—”

“Not now, Jenny.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t anger, but something darker. Something possessive.

She swallowed hard and continued unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the deep gash across his side.

Her breath hitched. “You need stitches.”

“I need you to stay,” he murmured.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

Before she could respond, Rafael returned, tossing the med kit onto the bed.

“I’ll handle this,” Jenny said, determination hardening her voice.

Rafael raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He nodded once before leaving them alone.

Marcus watched her in silence as she cleaned his wound. His eyes never left her face, even when she pressed a cloth against his skin, making him hiss through his teeth.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

Jenny met his gaze. “Yes, I do.”

Something shifted between them in that moment.

Neither of them spoke as she worked, but the air was thick with tension, with something unspoken lingering in the space between them.

By the time she finished, Marcus’s breathing had evened out, his body no longer as rigid beneath her touch.

Jenny let out a shaky breath, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “There. That should hold.”

Marcus reached up, his fingers catching her wrist before she could pull away.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jenny swallowed. “No.”

His grip tightened slightly, his thumb tracing over her pulse. “You should be.”

She knew he was right.