“Let go of me!” Emery hissed. “Let go!”


    She shoved at his chest, legs iling as Logan kept walking. He didn’t respond, didn’t flinch. His grip never tightened, never loosened. He just moved-calm, steady.


    But this wasn’t the hallway to her room.


    She twisted again. “This isn’t my room! Where the hell are you taking me?”


    He pushed open a door with his shoulder and walked inside. The room was darker, quieter. No windows. Thicker walls. The bed in the center wasrger than hers. The headboard was carved from thick wood. There were no decorations on the walls. Just a mounted shelf and a closed cab near the far corner. A bar setup stood at the side, crystal decanters lined in perfect


    rows.


    He walked over and ced her on the bed. Not roughly, not gently. Just dropped her onto the sheets like she was a package to set down.


    She immediately scrambled back up.


    “You can’t keep me here,” she said. “Just because you think you’re the father of my child doesn’t mean you get to lock me up and y protector.”


    He didn’t respond.


    She followed him with her eyes as he crossed the room to the bar. He opened a bottle, poured the amber liquid into a ss, and threw it back in one movement. Not a blink. Not a breath wasted.


    She moved to the edge of the bed, fists clenched at her sides.


    “You don’t get to do this,” she said. “You don’t get to rip me out of my life because you’ve decided I’m in danger. You don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about me.”


    He still didn’t speak.


    “I had ns. A job. Friends. People who care about me. And whether you believe it or not, I was handling it. I’m not some fragile-”


    Logan turned to face her.


    His stare cut through whatever words she was about to say next.


    She saw it-the shift in his expression. Calm on the surface, but something sharp underneath. Something wild. Something not entirely human.


    She swallowed.


    “What?” she said. “What are you going to do?”


    He didn’t move.


    “You think I’m wrong? You think you had the right to just-what? Snatch me from my home? Hide me in the middle of nowhere? Do you think I’m going to just sit here and wait for you to say what happens next?”


    She stepped closer.


    20 vouchers


    “I don’t even know who you are! You show up out of nowhere, you say I’m carrying your kid, and I’m just supposed to ept it? I’m supposed to stay in your oversized mansion, surrounded by bodybuilders and models who apparently double as housekeepers, and trust you?”


    Her voice cracked. She hated that.


    Logan still didn’t say anything. But his jaw flexed. His nostrils red.


    She saw it. The tension rippling across his body. His muscles were tight beneath his shirt, his chest rising faster now.


    “Are you insane?” she demanded. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”


    She pushed him.


    He didn’t move.


    She pushed again, harder. Her palms hit his chest, but he didn’t take a step.


    Instead, he looked down at her hands.


    Then her heart mmed against her ribs. He pulled her closer.


    She hadn’t noticed how much the room had shrunk until now.


    Her breath caught.


    Almost immediately, the air felt heavy. The tension between them cracked through the silence.


    He leaned in.


    But she didn’t back away. She wouldn’t.


    She hated that her skin prickled. She hated how she noticed the line of his jaw, the way his chest moved beneath her touch.


    She hated that even now-after everything-she felt something pull tight in her stomach. But she didn’t back away.


    She dropped her hands. “You’re out of your mind,” she said again, quieter this time.


    Still, he said nothing.


    But his eyes didn’t leave her face.


    “Am I out of my mind for taking you here?” Logan asked. He leaned closer. “Perhaps,” he said before she could answer.


    Emery leaned back, trying to put some distance between them. Her shoulders tensed as her back brushed the edge of the dresser.


    “If this really is your child,” she said, “then you can wait until I give birth. We’ll do a DNA test. That’s how normal people handle this.”


    He cut her off. “It is mine. I can sense him.”


    She blinked. “What?”


    “I can feel my pup,” he said. “You’re carrying my blood.”


    Emery narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”


    He didn’t borate. Instead, he straightened slightly without letting her go. “You’ll stay here. Be a good girl. Finish the pregnancy, and you’ll bepensated.”


    She stepped forward again, her hands tightening into fists. “I’m not someone you can just order around. I have my own life.”


    His eyes darkened. “I can,” he said, “because now, you’re mine.”


    Emery stared at him like he had grown two heads. “Who says something like that? Mr. Hayes, this isn’t a movie. What you’re doing is a criminal act. You can’t just hold women against their will. That’s kidnapping. And it’s punishable byw. Also, this isn’t the 80s. Women don’t sit at home and wait for men to tell them what to do. I have my own life. I need it.”


    She thought of Samuel. Of the betrayal. The cheating. The way she’d promised herself, she’d rebuild from scratch. Be smarter. Stronger. Build something without depending on anyone else. That n definitely didn’t include being dragged to a forestpound by a man she barely knew.


    “A life?” Logan asked, his tone t.


    Emery nodded.


    “You wanted a life outside-even while pregnant?”


    “Yes. It’s my choice. Only I have the right to decide what to do with my life.”


    His jaw clenched. His stare locked with hers, and for a second, she thought he’d snap.


    Then, slowly, took a deep breath before he stepped back.


    He let out a breath. One that sounded long. Drawn out.


    Her chest finally loosened. She hadn’t even realized how tense her body was until he stepped away.


    He walked toward the cab, muttering something under his breath. “Fine. We’ll do this the human way.”


    She watched as he opened the drawer. He reached inside and pulled out a dark folder. He walked back over and handed it to her.


    She frowned but took it.


    “Read it,” he said.


    She opened the folder and skimmed the contents.


    Name: Logan Hayes


    Age: 33


    Height: 6’4


    Eye color: Brown


    Hair: Dark brown


    Education: International Academy of Strategy and Business


    Interests: Tracking, wilderness training, high-altitudebat exercises, and advanced tactical strategy.


    There were more. Full medical history. Past injuries. Blood type. Certifications. Notes on weapon licenses. And even


    businesses.


    She looked up. “What is this?”


    Logan stood across from her now, his arms crossed again. “I figured if you’re going to keep throwing the word stranger around, maybe it’s time we fix that. Everything’s been done backwards. That file has everything about me.”


    She stared at him.


    He added, “That’s the profile of your future husband.”