Connection | 18+

   OLIVIA:

   I close the door behind me, trying to shake off the lingering pull of his words, his touch, and just everything about him.

   My pulse is still erratic, and I can’t quite get his intense stare out of my head. He was so calm, and somehow, that made it worse.

   Before I can catch my breath, the door opens. Ethan steps in, his face unreadable, but there’s a quiet tension to him that chills me. His gaze finds mine, steady and unyielding, and though he doesn’t say much, I can feel the disappointment radiating off him.

   “Everything’s handled,” he says, his voice low and calm. “You won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

   The words are simple, almost detached,  but the way he says them—like he’s barely containing something darker beneath the surface— sends a thrill through me. He’s angry, I can tell, but the fact that he won’t show it, that he’s too controlled for that, somehow makes him scarier.

   My pulse jumps again as I hold his gaze, waiting, uncertain.

   “Handled?” I echo, trying to keep my voice steady, though I can feel the way my heart races. “What do you mean? How did you even—”

   He cuts me off, his expression unwavering. “It’s taken care of, Olivia. That’s all you need to know.”

   There’s something about the way he dismisses my questions like I’m not worth the effort to explain. It should infuriate me, but instead, it sends a thrill down my spine. I’m torn between anger and the undeniable rush that comes with his control.

   I press on, a hint of defiance creeping into my tone. “You can’t just... Did you tell Daniel?” My tone is sharper than I intended as my brows frown.

   He steps closer, invading my space, and I feel the warmth radiating off him, seeping through every inch of me. His gaze never wavers, sharp and intense.

   “I should have,” he murmurs, his voice low, a dangerous growl that makes my breath hitch.
 
   Before I can process it, his hand moves up, fingers wrapping around my throat—not enough to hurt me the way I like, but enough to hold me there, firmly rooted in place. His touch sends a rush through me, and the way he leans forward, his face close to mine, makes my pulse race.

   His eyes scan mine, and I know he’s reading every flicker of hesitation, every hint of anticipation I’m too proud to hide. He’s too controlled, too calm, and that, somehow, makes him even more intimidating.

   “I should call him right now to see what an addict his sister is. That she doesn't care about risking others' lives.” His grip tightens just enough to make his point, his voice a dark whisper that trails over my skin. “Risking her life.”

   A mix of fear and thrill twists in my stomach, and I can’t tear my gaze away. I feel exposed, but I can’t help the way my heart races, my breath catching under his touch. as his hand tightens.

   “You won't," I dare, trying to keep my composure.

   He smirks slightly, that infuriating confidence oozing from him. “Don't test me. I just might.”

   His calm dismissal feels like a challenge, and I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with fear. There’s something intoxicating about how easily he takes control, how little he cares for my frustration. I want to push back, but a part of me craves that dominance, that certainty he carries so effortlessly.

   “I...I'm not an addict.” I think about what Daniel might think of me if he finds out. I can't let him. “Please don't tell him. I can't let him find out,” I say, though my voice wavers slightly, betraying the anxiousness coursing through me.