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Chapter_103
Whitney’s heart slammed against her ribcage as Ludwik’s lips crashed onto hers—fierce, unrelenting, and searing with emotion. The world fell away in that instant. All she could feel was the pressure of his mouth, the tension in his grip, the overwhelming weight of him pressing in from every direction.
Her hands moved on instinct, pressing against his chest, trying to create space. But Ludwik didn’t budge. His arms were steel, his body a fortress, and the hand at the back of her neck held her as if letting go would mean losing everything.
Panic surged through her veins. The terror of what had nearly happened tonight still lingered in her bones, and now this—this kiss that felt like possession more than affection—was too much, too fast.
“Stop,” she gasped, the word fragile and nearly lost beneath the force of the moment.
Ludwik’s lips stilled. He drew back slightly, his breath rough against hers, but his eyes burned with unspoken turmoil—rage, fear, and something far more dangerous.
“You don’t get to speak right now,” he growled, his voice low and raw. “Not after what happened tonight. You walked right into danger. You let them put their hands on you.”
Her stomach twisted, not from his words alone, but from the bitter injustice in them. She wanted to scream, to tell him how wrong he was, how none of this had been her choice—but her voice faltered beneath the pressure of everything she’d endured.
She tried again to pull away, but Ludwik’s arms tightened, his grip firm yet not cruel. “I’m not letting go,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Not after what they did. Not after seeing you like that.”
The fury in his eyes softened, and in its place bloomed something that made her chest ache—anguish. Real, unfiltered pain. “I told you once,” he said, barely above a whisper, “you’re mine. And I protect what’s mine.”
The words echoed inside her, not like a threat this time, but a vow. Yet it didn’t comfort her—it confused her. What was she to him? A person? A possession? A weakness he couldn’t afford?
“Let me go,” she said again, her voice trembling. “Please.”
But he didn’t move.
Instead, his forehead came to rest against hers, their breaths tangling in the silence. “Not tonight,” he murmured. “Not after this. I almost lost you.”
The air inside the car turned heavy, thick with all the things left unsaid. Whitney’s thoughts raced, but the weight of his presence made it impossible to focus. Everything had blurred—what she feared, what she wanted, what she needed.
Ludwik pulled back just enough to see her face, his expression unreadable. “You don’t even realize what you’ve done to me,” he said softly. “You’ve wrecked me, Whitney. I can’t think straight when it comes to you.”
His hand reached up, brushing her cheek—tentative now, almost reverent. “I’ve had enough of people hurting you,” he said, voice steady. “And I won’t stand by ever again.”
Then he leaned in—not with the same ferocity as before, but with a gentleness that startled her. His lips grazed her cheek, a fragile gesture that held more emotion than force.
“If you’re not ready to speak,” he whispered, “then let me speak for both of us.”
This time, when he kissed her, it was different—softer, searching, full of something deeper than lust or anger. It was a plea. A confession. A wound laid bare.
Whitney’s body tensed, then stilled. Her heart screamed confusion, but the fire inside her didn’t fight him this time. Her hands fell from his chest, no longer pushing, no longer resisting.
The world beyond the car slipped away, until only they remained—two people standing on the edge of something they didn’t yet understand.
