Chapter 83

His hold was possessive, a silent declaration of what he was capable of when he chose to be. But there was also a softness beneath it, something that felt almost… protective, even if I knew better than to read too much into it. His face was so close to mine now that I could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against my skin. It was an oddly intimate moment, especially given how we usually kept a distance from each other—both physically and emotionally.

Our eyes remained locked, the intensity of our stare unbroken. I could see the flicker of something in his gaze—interest, curiosity, maybe even amusement. But behind all that, there was also a hint of danger, the reminder that this was still Clyde, a man who never fully revealed his hand.

Neither of us said a word. We just stood there, our bodies pressed together, our gazes boring into each other’s souls as if trying to find whatever truth lay hidden beneath the layers of pretense and manipulation. It felt like a game of who would