I Told You To Run But You Didn't (Georgia) novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Georgia’s POV

Finished

I sat beside him, trapped in a silence so heavy I could barely breathe. To distract myself, I watched his thumb stroke the edge of a page. A man like him reading a book at all was a paradox, but it was his hands that truly captivated me.

They were artist’s hands-clean and graceful-but they held the memory of violence. I could still see them, wrapped around the steel of a gun, moving with an unnerving expertise.

As if he could read my thoughts, his thumb stilled. He finally lifted his gaze from the page, and his eyes pinned me in place.

“My hands seem to have your full attention,” he observed, his voice a velvet purr. “If you’re this curious, perhaps I should let you borrow them sometime.”

My breath hitched, and a scalding blush crept up my neck. I couldn’t even form a thought. The unfiltered audacity of this man was going to be the death of me!

I smiled awkwardly. “Oh, there’s no need. I… I was just curious about what book you’re reading.”

Without a word, he offered the book to me. I took it, my fingers brushing his. A jolt, sharp and electric, shot up my arm. The book was heavy, the leather worn smooth with time. On War. A first-edition translation.

My eyes widened. “This is… this is a collector’s item. It’s incredibly rare. You can’t ex It’s out of print.”

find this in a library.

I handed it back, and he took it with a smirk. “I have a fondness for things that are one-of-a-kind.” His eyes swept over me pointedly, making it clear he wasn’t just talking about the book.

“Most people find Clausewitz a bit dry,” I said, trying to regain my footing.

“Most people are boring,” he countered smoothly. “They see a treatise on strategy. I see a story about human nature. About how far a man will go to get what he wants. It’s a lesson in ambition.”

“And what is it you want?” I asked, the question bolder than I intended.

He leaned in, his scent of cologne and clean linen wrapping around me. “Everything the light touches,” he whispered, his smirk audible. “And a few things it doesnt.”

My first instinct was to flinch, but my body refused to obey. I was trapped in the magnetic field of his presence, the air growing thin and hot between us.

“Do you want to read it?” he asked, nodding to the book,

“We’re almost there,” I managed, my voice sounding strained. “I wouldn’t have time.”

Then the Mercedes glided to a silent stop in front of the villa. I stepped out of the car, my boots crunching on the gravel, but I’d only taken a few steps when Estevan’s driver appeared at my side.

“Ms. Sinclair,” he said, holding out the rare edition. “My boss insisted you have this.”

I took an involuntary step back. “I can’t. Please, thank him for the offer, but that book is priceless. I can’t possibly accept it.”

15:05 Thu, Mar 5 AM.

Chapter 21

Finished

The driver’s face was a mask of professional indifference. “He said, ‘If she refuses the gift, dispose of it.” He pressed the heavy, leather-bound volume into my hands, his meaning clear: take it or it gets destroyed.

Without another word, he turned and strode back to the car, leaving me with the impossible gift.

I stared down at the book, my heart a confusing mix of fury and a wild, undeniable flutter. A gift you couldn’t refuse wasn’t a gift. It was a claim.

“Well, look at what the kitty dragged in. And here I was, hinking you were just playing the part of the dutiful little wife.”

I looked up to see my sister-in-law, Jasmine, leaning against the doorway, her phone held up like a weapon. She sauntered towards me, her stilettos clicking ominously on the stone path.

“A gorgeous man in a car that costs more than this house, handing you presents?” she sneered, her eyes gleaming. “Who’s your new benefactor, Gia? Does my brother know you’ve found someone else to pay for your little hobbies?”

She lunged for the book, her painted nails like claws. “Let me see what a woman like you is worth-”

My reaction was lightning-fast. I slapped her hand away the sound sharp in the evening air. “Don’t,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “Touch me.”

Jasmine shrieked, clutching her hand as if I’d broken it. You psycho! You actually hit me! I got it all on video!” she screeched, her victim act perfected. “The car the man, you’re attacking me! Just wait until Lucas sees this! You are so finished!”

I looked at her, at her fake tears and triumphant smirk, and felt… nothing. Just a vast, hollow emptiness where my fear used to be. I scoffed, turning my back on her.

“Go on then,” I said, walking towards the stairs, “Call him. Send him the pictures. Tell him everything.”

Behind me, I heard her triumphant gasp, followed by the frantic tapping of her fingers on the phone. “Lucas? You are not going to believe what your pathetic little wife has been up to…”

I didn’t slow down. Let her talk. Let it all burn.

It didn’t take long. The sound of a car tearing up the gravel driveway was my only warning. Minutes lat the villa’s front door slammed shut, and heavy, furious footsteps echoed up the stairs.

A fist hammered on my bedroom door, not a knock but a demand.

When I opened it, Lucas was already moving, his hand damping around my arm. He dragged me from th doorway, his face a mask of thunder. “What the hell was that?”

I wrenched my arm free, my expression flat. “He just offered me a ride, Lucas.”

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