Here is Chapter 8 of Velvet Lies, around 300 words.
This chapter deepens the danger, for
Livia hated the feeling of being pulled, but Valen's grip on her wrist wasn't rough—just firm, unyielding, certain. He guided her toward his car with the injured man limping behind them. Every shadow felt heavier now, every sound sharper.
"This is unnecessary," she muttered, trying to pull free.
"No," Valen said, opening the car door for her. "What's unnecessary is you dying because you want to prove a point."
His tone was calm, but his eyes weren't.
There was something dark flickering there—fear. Not for himself. For her.
She swallowed, unsettled.
Once inside the car, Valen slid behind the wheel. The injured man groaned in the back seat. Valen started the engine and drove out of the lot with a speed that made her grip the seat.
"Where are we going?" Livia asked.
"To a place no one can find you."
"I didn't agree to that."
"You didn't have to."
His gaze flicked to her. "Someone fired at you tonight. That means you're a target. And until I know who's behind it, you're staying under my protection."
She scoffed. "Protection? Or control?"
Valen didn't answer for a moment. The silence stretched, hot and heavy.
Finally, he said quietly, "In this case… they're the same thing."
The car sped through the city, lights blurring past. Livia tried to steady her breathing, but the weight of everything was sinking into her chest. She had wanted to compete with Valen. Challenge him. Beat him.
She hadn't expected bullets.
She hadn't expected danger that felt real.
She hadn't expected him.
Valen turned down a private road lined with trees. "Just trust me for tonight," he said.
"I don't trust you."
His jaw tightened, but his voice was soft. "You will."
The car rolled to a stop in front of a secluded, darkened mansion.
"Get inside, Livia," Valen said, stepping out.
"This is the safest place you'll ever be… and the most dangerous."