Ace

Her head turned slowly toward him. Eyes burning. “You knew.” A pause. Then— “Yes.” That was it. Valeriia moved without thinking. Knife flashing as she lunged at him. Fast. Precise. Aimed straight for his throat— He caught her wrist instantly. Like it was nothing. Her momentum stopped dead between them. Too close. Way too close. Her breath hitched—not from fear— From the sheer force of impact. His grip was solid. Unyielding. But not painful. That somehow made it worse. “Let go,” she snapped, trying to twist free. He didn’t. His other hand came up, steadying her before she could lose balance. Not gentle. Not rough. Controlled. Always controlled. “You’re done,” he said quietly. “I’m not done.” “You are tonight.” Her chest rose and fell sharply, eyes locked on his. Furious. Defiant. Refusing. “Don’t tell me what I am,” she hissed. “Then stop proving me right.” That made her yank harder. Pointless. He didn’t budge. Didn’t even tense. Her voice dropped, low and dangerous. “If you don’t let go, I’ll make you regret it.” Something flickered in his eyes. Not fear. Not even concern. Something darker. Interested. “I’d like to see you try.” Silence slammed between them. Heavy. Breathing. Close enough now that she could feel the heat of him— and hate it. Hate that he was stronger. Hate that he wasn’t afraid. Hate that he was right. Her grip on the knife faltered— just slightly. He noticed. Of course he did. Slowly— he loosened his hold. Not fully. Just enough. A test. She didn’t strike again. Didn’t move. Didn’t step back either. For a long second— they just stood there. Locked.