Chapter 176 Do you trust me?

Chapter 176 Do you trust me?
Throughout the entire drive, I spend every minute trying to construct the best way to open this conversation. Because a conversation needs to happen. Bastian brought me along under the pretense of finishing our argument, yet he seems completely content driving in stony, impenetrable silence, tapping his fingers against the leather steering wheel like he has all the time in the world.
Eventually, I realize there’s no point in tip-toeing around it. The only way through this wall is to nip it right in the fucking bud.
I shift in my seat, turning my body toward him and locking a deadly serious stare onto the side of his face. "You are being extremely unfair," I say, my voice dropping into a rigid register. "And hypocritical."
His jaw flexes, his hands tightening slightly on the wheel as he opens his mouth to cut in, but I cut him off before he can.
"And also, I’m flying home tomorrow."
That stops him. He ignores the entire first half of my sentence, his brow knotting slightly. "Home?"
"To my hometown," I clarify, holding his gaze. "Texas."
He finally spares me a quick, lingering glance, his eyes searching my face as if looking for a punchline or a sign that I’m just trying to rattle him. Finding none, he turns back to the road and gives a small, dismissal shake of his head.
"No, you aren't."
If I wasn't already taken aback and seething, that three-word sentence sends my blood straight to a boil.
I shut my mouth instantly. I know that if I open it right now, I am going to scream something irreversible. I already knew Bastian was difficult. I knew he was used to absolute control, used to moving people around like pieces on a chessboard...he’s practically admitted as much. But there's a line, and this is supposed to be a relationship! This whole supreme-leader, dictatorial-overlord routine isn't going to fly with me.
A few minutes later, he pulls the sedan into a sleek, valet-only turn-around in front of a venue I recognize immediately. I’ve never stepped foot inside, but it’s hard to miss the hyped-up, high-end nightlife staple heavily plastered all over social media.
Vesper.
"What are we doing here?" I ask, staring at the darkened glass doors.
"I have a meeting with someone," he says simply. He puts the car in park, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out without another word.
I take a deep, shaky breath, closing my eyes for two seconds. This man is testing every last drop of my fucking patience today. I reach for the door handle to get out after him, pulling on it...but it doesn't budge. I pull it again. Locked.
"Are you serious?" I mutter, yanking the handle hard.
A second later, Bastian appears outside my window. He leans in down before hitting the window control. The dark glass glides the rest of the way down smoothly.
I glare up at him through the opening. "Open the door."
He looks entirely unbothered, leaning an arm against the top of the doorframe. "I will in a minute. You have a habit of storming off whenever you're upset, Kaden. It’s a bad habit."
My grip on the inner door panel tightens until my knuckles turn white. "You're really starting to piss me off."
He leans in a bit closer, his icy blue eyes fixing onto mine with a sharp, heavy intensity that practically pins me to the leather seat.
"Why?" he asks softly, his voice devoid of mock irritation, replaced by something dangerously dark. "Because I cared enough to hurt the man who hurt you? Because I’d do it again in a heartbeat? Honestly, Kaden, I was actively considering running full background checks on every single ex you’ve ever had, but I exercised restraint."
I let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh, staring at him with utter disbelief. "Should I throw you a parade for only terrorizing one person from my past?"
It doesn't phase him for a single second. The remark hits him and bounces right off his polished armor.
He shifts, leaning even closer through the open window, the expensive scent of his cologne filling the tight space between us. When he speaks again, his tone drops into a quiet, eerily tone that hits a nerve I wasn't ready for.
"I know how you feel," he says softly, his eyes holding mine captive. "You feel exposed. You feel like your feelings aren't being considered, and you hate the idea of being managed. I'm not a hypocrite, Kaden. I see the unfairness in it. I know that digging into your life pisses you off just as much as you claim."
He pauses, his gaze darkening into something sharp and raw.
"But you also insist on being so fucking independent," he murmurs, his jaw tightening as he breathes the words out. "And frankly, that pisses me off, too."
"Is that what this is about?" I ask, my voice tight as I stare back into those sharp eyes. "Because we’ve already talked about this, Bastian."
"We have," he agrees softly, his hand resting on the top edge of the open window. "And we came to an agreement. I’ve learned to accept it. But my promise was strictly regarding your professional life. I said nothing about ignoring your personal affairs."
I stare at him in sheer disbelief. "And that’s why you think you can stop me from going home? After you were the one who told me my little sister's in danger?"
His gaze cools as he studies my face, taking in every trace of panic and frustration I’m trying so hard to hide.
"Your stepfather just spent a week in a county holding cell after putting a man in the hospital at a local diner," he suddenly says, his voice dropping into a deadly, matter-of-fact tone. "He was bailed out five hours ago. He's unstable, volatile, and a direct physical threat. I am not letting you fly out there, because if something happens to you..." He pauses, his eyes darkening into something almost terrifyingly feral. "...I might be the one facing charges. So no, Kaden. You're not going anywhere. You'll let me handle it."
I grind my teeth together, the tension in my jaw making my teeth ache. I force my gaze away, staring fixedly at the leather dashboard. "She's my sister."
"Exactly," he answers smoothly.
Before I can protest, his hand reaches through the open window, his fingers hooking gently yet firmly under my jaw, angling my face back toward his. His touch is warm against my cold skin, forcing my eyes to lock with his.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, voice low.
"What are you actually planning on—"
"Do you trust me, Kaden?" he repeats, cutting me off.
I open my mouth to argue, to demand specifics, to drag my boundaries back into the open...but held under the absolute, hypnotic weight of his gaze, my defense completely collapses. My brain feels clouded, heavy, overwhelmed by the intensity radiating off him.
Against my better judgment, I feel myself give a small, subtle nod.
His expression softens instantly. He leans down through the window, pressing his lips against mine. The kiss starts brief, a firm promise, before it slows down, drawing deeper until the steady rhythm of it consumes every last rational thought in my head. By the time he slowly breaks away, my chest is heaving, my pulse hammering wildly against my ribs.
"Good boy," he mutters softly, his thumb brushing over my cheek in a gesture so possessively tender it scrambles whatever was left of my brain.
For three terrifying seconds, I sit there in the quiet, genuinely trying to recall what the hell we were just arguing about. My mind is total mush. Bastian stands up, a subtle click echoing through the vehicle as he disengages the locks, and pulls the passenger door wide open for me.