I Ran From My Psycho Step-brother Straight Into The Alpha's Lap novel Chapter 62

**When Night Grows Softer Hope Returns To Lead Us by Asa Rowan Finn Chapter 62**

Torin’s gaze sharpened as it fell upon her, a storm brewing behind his steely eyes. “No,” he declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

Sophie felt an ache deep within her chest, as if her heart were fracturing under the weight of his refusal. “You don’t understand,” she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. “I need that job.” The urgency of her situation clawed at her throat, making it difficult to breathe.

With a predator’s grace, Torin advanced towards her, his presence overwhelming. “I said no. You’re staying here.” His tone was final, as if he were sealing her fate with each word.

Crossing her arms in defiance, Sophie shot back, “You can’t keep me here.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but she had to stand her ground.

His lips curled into a smirk, a hint of challenge in his demeanor. “Watch me,” he replied, turning on his heel and striding toward his office. She watched him go, her heart racing with a mix of anger and fear.

Turning to Liam, she sought answers, her voice trembling with confusion. “What is going on, Liam?” The hurt in her tone was palpable, and she could feel her insides twisting.

Liam stood up, his expression a mixture of sorrow and sympathy. “Sorry, baby girl. This is between you and him.” With that, he made his way toward the front door, letting himself out with a soft click behind him.

Sophie felt the walls closing in around her, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. What was happening? Why were they treating her like this? She waited a few agonizing minutes for Liam to leave, her mind racing, then glanced down the hallway where Torin had vanished. He was nowhere to be seen.

With determination igniting within her, she grabbed her purse and tiptoed toward the front door. She would walk—just walk—until she could catch a ride to the coffee shop. She couldn’t let this job slip through her fingers; she needed to speak with Helen and clear up this colossal misunderstanding.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned the doorknob, moving slowly and cautiously. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, searching for any sign of Torin. There was nothing. With a deep breath, she opened the door wide, only to nearly stumble back as Max loomed in the entrance. “Going somewhere?” he growled, his presence intimidating.

Sophie instinctively stepped back, and Max entered the house, shutting the door with an air of finality behind him.

He strode into the kitchen, and Sophie followed him with her gaze, contemplating her options. She could make a break for it. “Don’t even think about it,” Max warned, his voice low and threatening.

“I’m faster than you. You’ll never make it,” he added, a note of confidence ringing in his tone.

Anger surged within her, urging her to challenge him, but deep down, she recognized the truth: he was faster, especially in her current state of exhaustion. Sophie felt drained and bewildered, but more than anything, she felt a profound sense of hurt. She shuffled back to her room, collapsing onto her bed.

**Chapter 62**

Lying back against the cool sheets, she closed her eyes, letting tears slip down her cheeks. She had genuinely believed she was forging a connection with these people. She thought that she and Torin shared something… significant. The realization that it was all a figment of her imagination cut deeper than any physical wound.

Repositioning herself on the bed, she nestled into the pillows, pulling the blanket tightly around her. The tears continued to fall as she surrendered to the fatigue that beckoned her into sleep, a temporary escape from the chaos of her thoughts.

Unbeknownst to her, the door creaked open. She remained oblivious to the gentle hand that reached out and brushed away the tears staining her face. If only she had seen the anguish etched on the man’s features as he gazed upon his mate—perhaps it would have provided her with a flicker of solace.

Instead, she felt more isolated than ever, wrapped in a cocoon of loneliness.

The hours slipped away as Sophie remained in her room, lost in her sorrow. Torin approached her door, attempting to coax her into eating lunch, but she turned a deaf ear to his pleas. The day blurred into a haze as she dozed, her body still recovering from the emotional turmoil. It was only around four in the afternoon that she finally mustered the strength to rise from her bed. A shower was in order; she hoped it would help her feel more like herself again.

But first, she needed to find something to wear. She ambled over to the long dresser, opening drawers in search of clothing. To her surprise, they were filled with remnants from the other house. She pulled out a long-sleeved white shirt, a cozy grey sweater, and a pair of leggings. The ensemble looked inviting and warm, perfect for her current state of mind. Just as she was about to step into the bathroom, a knock echoed at her door.

“Sophie,” Torin’s voice came through, causing her to tense involuntarily. The hurt from their earlier confrontation flared within her. “You need to eat something,” he insisted.

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