The headlights cut through the rain like a knife. My heart slammed against my ribs as the engine cut off. Elias’s arms tightened around me instantly, that familiar clingy grip turning almost bruising in its intensity. We were still half-dressed on the couch, the scent of s*x and rain thick in the air.
“It’s her,” he whispered, voice low and rough. His hand slid possessively down my back, as if he could shield me from what was coming. “Stay close to me, baby. No matter what she says.”
The front door creaked open. Footsteps — heavy, deliberate — echoed in the hallway. Amina appeared in the living room doorway, soaked from the rain, her dark hair plastered to her face. Her eyes, red-rimmed and furious, landed first on me, then on her father’s arm still wrapped tightly around my waist.
The
