Chapter 7 THE PROPOSAL

Ford's POV

Ford was home earlier than expected.

The house seemed to inhale when he stepped through the door. The air felt different, thicker, somehow like his presence pulled all the tension in the room to a peak.

Cady was in the hallway. Not near the couch but standing by the study. By the bookshelf.

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and something shifted in her. A subtle change. The calm defiance of earlier was gone. Now, she just looked caught. And it wasn't fear. It wasn't guilt. It was the way a person stands when they know they've gone too far, but haven't quite figured out how much they've lost in the process.

He didn't move. Didn't speak immediately. Just let the seconds stretch out between them.

Cady looked away first, stepping back, hands curling into fists at her sides.

"I didn't mean to-" she started, but she trailed off.

Ford watched her for a beat longer, his thoughts turning over as easily as the pages in one of his notebooks. She wasn't afraid of him not like the other women. And that had started to make him wonder something he couldn't afford.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked, his voice low, even.

Her eyes flicked back to his, steady this time. A slight tilt of her chin. A challenge.

"Looking," she said simply.

He exhaled through his nose, shifting his weight slightly, keeping his stance casual. It wasn't an invitation to relax, it was just how he held himself. Always in control. Always aware.

"Looking where you shouldn't," he corrected.

Cady didn't respond. She didn't apologize either she just stood there.

It wasn't the first time someone had trespassed in his life physically, but not emotionally. But there was something different in how she did it. There were no grand gestures, no attempt to manipulate him. She was almost methodical. It was like she was gathering information but for what? And why?

"My office and things are not to be touched, don't step foot in it again," he said finally, each word dragging a weight of warning behind it.

Her jaw tightened. "I didn't open anything."

Elias stepped closer, just enough to make her notice the small, deliberate movement, and the shift in the air when he did.

"No," he agreed. "But you looked. And that's the same as breaking and entering."

"Is it?" Cady raised her chin slightly. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems more like trying to understand what I'm dealing with."

She wasn't wrong.

He kept his voice even. "You don't need to understand, you just need to do what I told you."

Her eyes narrowed, a touch of frustration flickering in them. "I think I do."

And that was the part of her he couldn't place.

She didn't need him. She didn't need anything from him, except space. A place to breathe. A place to survive.

Yet, she kept pushing. Looking. Probing that kind of persistence wasn't born of curiosity alone. It was born of something deeper. He studied her, weighing each second, each breath she took. "You've made your point," he said. "But let me make mine: There are things you don't get to see. Things you don't get to know."

"You think I'm here for information?" Her voice was steady, but the edge behind it was sharp.

"What else is there, you can't be a mere thief, yes you want the money, but you're here for something too."

"The kid's shoe, the kid yours?"

"It's not your business."

He didn't want her to see him any differently. He didn't want her to humanize him.

"I'm not a savior," he said, voice lower now. "I don't do kindness for free."

She stepped back, her hand briefly resting on the wall as if steadying herself. "I never asked for your kindness."

"Good. Because you won't get it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension felt thick, like something about to snap, like the space between them had been stretched tight.

Then, softly, Cady broke the silence.

"You need to let me go Ford."

Ford didn't answer right away. He didn't have a good reason. He could've. He should've. But there was something in her something damned familiar that kept him from it. They look so alike, he shakes his head trying to pull himself out of it. He knows that he isn't letting her go. All the nights spent wishing she was here, and now having someone with her face, how is he supposed to let her go?

"I don't need to explain myself to you," he finally said, his voice colder than before. "I have a proposal for you, take it and I won't be forced to turn you in. You've got a lot of little crimes, and with this, you will have to go to jail for some months, longer if the judge isnt merciful."

She exhaled sharply, the unspoken words hanging between them. But then she dropped her gaze. Her throat working, tears come to her eyes, she runs a shaky hand in her deep auburn hair. "What do you want?"

"Be mine, mine to do with anytime, it's for six months, you'll have your own room of course." He smiles softly, "Anything you want, and when six months comes, you will be rewarded handsomely. I'll let you to think about, sleep on it Cady, tell me what you think in the morning," he says and leaves her in haunting silence.