“Don’t worry, Landon,” Jasmine cuts in before the silence can curdle, her laugh dry, dangerous, and sharp enough to drawblood. Sexy as hell, if I’m honest—makes the blood rush straight to my cock. Inconvenient as that is.
“I didn’t take Castillo for the type to stalk his girlfriend’s bestie,” she goes on, smiling sharp enough to slice, “but hey—guess we’ve both misjudged each other.”
I snort, leaning back and watching the wide-eyed expression on Jasmine’s face. She looks like she is ready to shred Cast to pieces with her bare hands. FuckPeachhas teeth. Bloody hell—she’s apeach with teeth.Even better. Abloodypeach.
Cast tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studies her like he’s trying to decide whether to be insulted or impressed.
“Careful, niña,” he says, his voice smoother now but no less threatening. “That mouth of yours is writing cheques your blood might not be able to cash.”
I move slightly, just enough that he knows I’ve noticed. Jasmine doesn’t flinch, instead she rolls her shoulders to the back and stands even fucking straighter.
Then she does something that makes my heart pound for all the wrong reasons.
She squats slightly, pinching her fingers together as she steps closer to Cast like she’s mocking his height, his power—his entire existence.
“Oh, I’msosorry,” she purrs, all razor-edged sarcasm. “Are you going to kill me too? Is that where Willow is? Did she injure your ego, so you offed her?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he growls, stepping forward once, just enough to make most people take a step back.
But Jasmine doesn’t move. If anything, she leans in, and Christ, I’m half hard and she hasn’t even touched me.
I laugh—low, moving across the room to be next to Jasmine and amused as hell. “Alright, everyone take a breath,” I say, raising a hand like I’m breaking up a pub brawl. “Nobody’s dying tonight, yeah? Let’s cool it before someone actually gets shot.”
Cast’s glare cuts to me, nostrils flaring—but then he exhales through his nose, slow and hard. He turns back to Jasmine, jaw still clenched.
“I wouldneverhurt Willow,” he says through his teeth, eyes boring into hers.
“Then prove it,” Jasmine snaps. Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s sharp enough to crack glass. “Because until I see her breathing, I don’t believe a damn word you say.”
Cast maintains eye contact as he snaps his finger twice and snarls. “Laptop.”
A guard moves quickly, almost nervously, crossing the room with a matte-black laptop held tight to his chest. Cast takes it without a word, flips it open, and begins typing with sharp, practiced keystrokes. The screen glows to life, cycling through encrypted feeds until he pauses on one. A surveillance camera, crystal clear and timestamped.
Jasmine stiffens beside me the moment she realizes what she’s seeing.
On-screen, Willow stands barefoot in front of a half-formed mound of clay, her shoulders tense and her face set in deep concentration. A cup of noodles is clutched in one hand, steam curling from the rim. Her hair’s twisted into a messy bun, claysmudges streaking her arms, and she’s scowling at the sculpture like it personally offended her.
Jasmine lets out a soft, fractured gasp that cuts deeper than any scream could. Her hand jerks forward on instinct, reaching for the laptop as if proximity might make it more real.
“Willow…” Her voice catches, barely more than a whisper, full of disbelief.
“You fucking asshole,” she breathes, voice gaining strength as her chest rises. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Cast replies flatly, eyes trained on Willow as he stares at her as if he is lost.
“I don’t believe you,” she chokes out, the words raw and heavy. Her eyes never leave the screen, locked on the living proof of her best friend.
“I don’t expect you to,” Cast says, his shrug careless, but the tone underneath it cuts—somewhere between indifference and a warning. “But she’s safe. Untouched. Protected.”
“Protected?” Jasmine lets out a brittle laugh, the sound tight in her throat, half-sob, half-scoff. “Byyou? Is that what you call this? Cameras in every corner? Locked doors? Probably a gun under her goddamn pillow just in case you change your mind?”
“I do what I must.” Cast’s voice sharpens, the polished control slipping just enough to reveal the crack beneath. “I don’t care whether you understand—but you don’t get to stand here and question what she means to me. You don’tgetto touch that.” His next words are barely above a whisper. “She is myeverything.”
Jasmine steps closer, jaw set, eyes glinting with fire through the shine of unshed tears. “She’s my best friend.”
Cast snorts, the sound dry and hollow. “That’s cute. But she’s breathing, isn’t she? So are you. You’re both alive—because ofme.”
Jasmine laughs again, but this time it’s laced with venom. “Right. Thanks, dude. I totally owe you for the stalker.”
