I Ran From My Psycho Step-brother Straight Into The Alpha's Lap novel Chapter 14

**When Night Grows Softer Hope Returns To Lead Us by Asa Rowan Finn – Chapter 14**

The morning slipped away in a whirlwind of tasks and responsibilities. Time seemed to race ahead when one was too busy to indulge in self-pity, and Sophie found herself caught in that very current.

During her lunch break, she sought refuge in the library, a sanctuary away from the chaos of her day. There, in the quiet embrace of books and knowledge, she pulled out scraps of paper and began to draft business plans, her heart racing with each idea she penned down. These were not just idle thoughts; they were lifelines for Helen, a way to prove to herself that she was more than just a cog in the wheel, more than someone who merely pushed buttons for coffee.

As she made her way back to the shop, a sudden chill gripped her, halting her steps.

Torin.

He stood against the wall outside, his posture relaxed yet commanding, hands tucked deep in his pockets, exuding an aura of indifference that belied the tension in the air. The people around him navigated a wide berth, as if he were a storm cloud threatening to unleash rain.

Sophie pressed her lips into a thin line, her heart quickening. She attempted to sidestep him, to slip past without engaging, but Torin was quick to intercept her.

With a swift movement, he straightened, effectively blocking her escape. In his hand, he clutched something tightly. Before she could fully comprehend the situation, he thrust it into her chest with a force that left no room for debate.

“Take it.” His voice was a sharp command, chilled and unyielding.

Sophie’s gaze dropped to the object in her hands.

A coat.

Not just any coat—a substantial, luxurious wool coat, its plaid pattern woven in rich hues of deep brown and burgundy. The fabric practically radiated wealth, and the texture felt so exquisite against her fingers that it made her palms slick with unease.

“It’s freezing out here, and you’re walking around looking like a refugee,” he remarked, his frown deepening as his eyes scrutinized her thin t-shirt with evident disdain. “Put it on.”

A spark of defiance ignited within Sophie. What was this? An act of charity? A gesture of pity?

“I’m not cold,” she retorted, her voice edged with irritation as she attempted to return the coat to him. “I don’t need your—”

“It’s forty below. You want to die out here?” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly.

“I don’t—”

Torin stepped closer, invading her personal space. A wave of raw energy washed over her—testosterone, cedar, tobacco—an overwhelming presence that demanded submission.

He leaned down, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that felt predatory. “Don’t make me say it twice, Sophie.”

His voice dropped to a low, gravelly tone that sent shivers down her spine. “Wear it. Or I’ll dress you myself.”

With a reluctant huff, she snatched the coat from him, her anger flaring as she shoved her arms into the sleeves.

Instantly, warmth enveloped her, a comforting embrace that contrasted sharply with the biting cold outside. The coat was heavy and soft, infused with his scent—a mix of cedar and something uniquely him. It felt… safe. The shivering that had plagued her moments ago ceased, and her shoulders relaxed against her will.

Torin observed her as she fumbled with the buttons, his stormy expression softening just a fraction.

“There’s something in the pocket,” he said abruptly, his voice low and serious. “Don’t lose it.”

Before she could muster a response, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her stunned in his wake.

Sophie stood rooted to the spot, her heart racing. Hesitantly, her hand slipped into the deep pocket of the coat. Her fingers brushed against something solid—a thick stack of paper.

With trembling hands, she pulled it out.

Hundreds. A neat stack of hundred-dollar bills.

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