(Steven Sy's POV)
Lara didn't even wait for him to step through the lobby.
The moment Steven entered the quiet glass doors, she grabbed his sleeve, jaw tight, eyes blazing in a way he'd only seen a handful of times in his entire life.
"Steven," she said sharply. "We're talking."
Not asking.
Not inviting.
Declaring.
He let himself be pulled into a quiet corner of the lobby, away from the night staff and prying eyes.
She planted herself in front of him, arms crossed, fox-like eyes narrowed.
"What was that?"
He didn't answer.
He couldn't—not without saying something he wasn't ready to hear himself.
Lara scoffed. "Oh, so we're doing the silent brooding routine again. Great. Fantastic. Very on brand for you."
Steven exhaled slowly. "Lara—"
"No," she cut in, voice trembling with restrained anger. "I need you to listen first."
He fell silent.
Her breath hitched.
"You promised," she whispered, softer now, "you promised you wouldn't let her get between us."
