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The afternoon sun beat down on the unfamiliar, rundown streets where she had fled. It had been three long, agonizing days since Honey blocked Caledon's number, packed up her meager belongings into a few cardboard boxes, and quietly abandoned her apartment. His mother’s cruel, cutting words still echoed painfully in her head: You aren't good enough for him. Leave my son alone. She thought she had successfully vanished into the bustling crowd, believing that by disappearing completely, she was protecting Caledon from the toxic drama of his elite family. But as she walked down the cracked sidewalk, clutching her thin jacket tight against the biting chill of the wind, a sudden, powerful grip clamped onto her arm.
Honey gasped and stumbled back, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she prepared to defend herself against a stranger, only to freeze when her eyes locked onto the person holding her. It was Caledon. He looked entirely uncharacteristic. His perfectly tailored, expensive suit was rumpled, his tie was slightly loosened, and his chest heaved with heavy breaths as if he had been frantically searching for her on foot for hours. His dark eyes burned with a chaotic mixture of desperation, exhaustion, and raw fury.
His fingers tightened around her arm—not enough to cause any pain, but with a firm, unyielding strength that made it clear he was terrified she would vanish again if he let go for even a single second. Where do you think you're going?
he demanded.
His voice was dangerously low, cracking with a raw vulnerability she had never heard from him before. He stepped closer, cutting off her path entirely. You block my number, pack your things, and just vanish without a single word... Did you really think I wouldn't find you, Honey? Did you really think I would just let you walk out of my life like this?
