Chapter 255

Chapter 255
Kevin

I watched Isabella's face as I set the plate in front of her—three ounces of salmon fillet, steamed broccoli, and a baked potato. Her nose wrinkled slightly, and I could smell her displeasure. Good. I didn't need her to like it. I needed her to eat it.

"I'm really not that hungry," she said, poking at the broccoli with her fork as if it might bite her back.

"Eat," I commanded, my voice leaving no room for argument. I sat across from her, feeling Richard and Michael's eyes on us. Every time I saw those slender wrists of hers, those delicate bones that were now too prominent, I wanted to force-feed her myself.

Isabella's eyes flashed with that challenge I'd grown accustomed to. "Are you trying to negotiate with me about what I should eat?" She straightened her spine, gently pushing the plate away. "Our dominance arrangement is over, remember? You can't order me around anymore."

I raised an eyebrow, finding myself amused despite everything. Even weak and exhausted, she still maintained that fire. "Is that so?" I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "You called me 'daddy' this morning when you were half-asleep."

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks immediately flushed with the most delightful shade of pink. "I—what? That was real?" Her hand flew to her mouth. "I thought I dreamed that."

I couldn't help the slight upturn of my lips. "Why be embarrassed? You know I like it when you call me that."

Her blush deepened, spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of the blue sweater I'd put on her earlier. I shouldn't enjoy her discomfort so much, realizing I was teasing her—something I rarely did with anyone. Richard and Michael exchanged glances, clearly surprised by my playful tone. Hell, I was surprised myself. What was it about this little omega that made me act so differently?

"Eat your breakfast," I said, pushing the plate back toward her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You... don't have the right to order me around anymore, do you? Our arrangement is terminated, remember?"

I tilted my head, studying her stubborn expression. "Technically, I'm treating you more like a subordinate than a partner now." I picked up my own fork, spearing a piece of salmon. "You need protein and nutrients to regain your strength." I paused, the words catching in my throat before I forced them out: "It's because I care about you."

Her eyes widened at my admission, surprise evident in her scent. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Fuck. I hadn't meant to reveal that much. There was something about her that drew honesty from me like water from a well.

Richard cleared his throat. "Isabella, we understand your desire for independence," he said, his accent becoming more pronounced as it did when he was being diplomatic. "But we cannot stand by and watch you grow weaker day by day."

Michael nodded beside him. "Kevin's approach may be... direct, but the intention is good."

"But if you truly don't want our help," Richard continued, his expression serious, "you can choose to leave."

I shot Richard a look, my wolf growling at the suggestion. What the fuck was he thinking? The last thing I wanted was for her to walk out that door, away from our protection.

Isabella's scent shifted to anxiety. "What about... him?" she swallowed hard. She couldn't even say the stalker's name, and my protective instincts surged even stronger. I wanted to tear apart the person who made her so afraid, rip them limb from fucking limb until there was nothing left.

"We would arrange private security," Richard explained smoothly. "Find you a safer residence."

"You would still be protected," Michael added gently. "The choice is yours, beautiful."

I clenched my fist under the table until my knuckles cracked. If it were entirely up to me, she wouldn't have a choice at all. But I kept silent, watching the internal struggle play out on her expressive face.

After what felt like an eternity, she sighed deeply. "I choose to stay," she said, her voice small but firm. "I choose to stay."

The tension in my shoulders eased slightly. Thank fuck. Richard and Michael looked equally relieved, though they hid it better.

"In that case, you know what to do," I said, nodding toward her plate.

A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips as she picked up her fork. "Fine. But I'm doing this under protest."

I watched with satisfaction as she took the first bite, my inner wolf settling now that she was accepting nourishment. Whatever she might protest, we needed each other. She needed our protection and care, and we needed... something I wasn't ready to name yet. Whenever I thought about it too long, my chest tightened uncomfortably.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Glancing at the screen, I recognized the tech specialist's number. "I need to take this," I said, abruptly standing and walking toward my office.

Once inside with the door closed, I answered tersely: "Report."

"Your suspicions were correct," the female voice on the other end said. "Her phone has been compromised. Sophisticated spyware installed that allows remote access to everything—microphone, camera, messages, location tracking. Whoever installed this can essentially turn her phone into a surveillance device at will."

I gripped the phone so hard I heard the plastic crack. That bastard. Some perverted fuck had been watching her, listening to her every conversation, tracking her movements. Probably laughing while watching her live in fear. The rage that swept through me was blinding, burning like acid in my veins.

"Can you trace who installed this?" I managed through clenched teeth.

"Not easily. They've routed the connection through multiple VPNs. Whoever it is knows what they're doing."

"Keep monitoring," I ordered. "I want to be notified of any unusual activity immediately."

"Of course. We'll stay on it."

I ended the call, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. The urge to hit something—or someone—was overwhelming. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, demanding release, demanding blood. I punched the wall, feeling the drywall crack beneath my knuckles. It wasn't enough. I needed to contact my fight organizer soon. I needed an outlet or I would explode and do something I'd regret.

Taking a deep breath, I returned to the kitchen, forcing my expression to remain neutral. Isabella had made decent progress with her meal—most of the broccoli was gone, and about a third of the salmon remained, though the potato was barely touched. She looked up when I entered, her intuition clearly picking up on my dark mood despite my efforts to hide it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her fork pausing midair.

"Your phone," I said bluntly, watching her expression. "I had it checked, and someone installed monitoring software on it."

She set down her fork, her face paling. "Monitoring... what does that mean exactly?"

"It means," my voice dropped to a dangerous growl, "that whoever installed it has access to your camera, your microphone, your messages. They've been watching you, listening to you."

"That's impossible," she whispered. "Who could have gotten to my phone?"

"I need you to make a list," I said, temporarily ignoring her question. "Everyone who's had access to your phone. Anyone who might have had it, even briefly. Don't leave anyone out." I leaned closer, making sure she understood the gravity of my request. "Including your closest friends."

Her eyes widened slightly at the implication. Good. She needed to understand that betrayal often came from those closest to you. I thought of Julian, her supposed best friend. The most obvious suspect with the most opportunity to access her phone. Always hovering around her, always so fucking protective. Perhaps too protective?