Third Person's POV Lana didn't dare to move. Victor stood close enough that she could hear the faint sound of his breathing-slow, rough, controlled only by a thread. It was a long moment before he finally released her, setting her back on her feet. "Lana," he murmured, voice low, almost hoarse, "do you really not like me anymore?" She froze, her expression hardening as she looked away. "Someone like you, Victor-the Alpha's favored heir, the Capital's golden attorney-how could I ever afford to like you?" He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Lana let out a short, bitter laugh. "It means men like you have been surrounded by women since you were old enough to shift. I was just the one who chased you the hardest back then. Maybe you thought I was amusing-something convenient, someone to pass the time with. A shield to ward off all the others." Her lips curled. "Just like now." Victor stiffened. She wasn't entirely wrong. When they'd first dated, that had been the case. But now-now it wasn't. "In this one-year contract we made," she said evenly, her voice stripped of emotion, "I'll do everything you asked. I'll be the obedient, convenient girlfriend you want. But that's all. I don't expect-or want-anything more. And from now on, I hope… those things won't happen again." His eyes darkened. "Those things?" She hesitated, then pressed her lips together. "Sleeping together. I don't want to do that anymore." Her tone was steady, but her pulse betrayed her. Even so, she forced the words out. "Once or twice is one thing, but I don't intend to continue. No matter how good you look, or how easy it is to want you-it's not worth losing myself in something that fleeting." "You don't like being with me?" His voice was quiet but heavy, edged with anger. "Physical things should happen between people who actually love each other," Lana said. "We're just in a contract, Victor. You don't love me, and I don't love you." He studied her in silence, then asked, "And if I said I was willing to love you? Would you love me back?"Lana stared at him as if he'd told a cruel joke. Her laugh came out sharp, humorless. "Victor, don't do this. If you were capable of loving me, you would've done it years ago-when we were still together. Not now, after everything's ended." Her smile was bitter. "Besides, I already told you-I can't afford to like a man like you, much less love you. So please, stop joking." Victor's expression hardened, the air between them cooling like frost. He hadn't expected to say those words himself-to offer them so rawly-and he hadn't expected her to cut them down without hesitation. He remembered, years ago, how she'd clung to his arm, laughing up at him with those bright, reckless eyes. "Victor, I'm your girlfriend. Can't you love me, just a little?" "We agreed-dating doesn't mean love," he'd replied back then, detached and practical. "That's fine," she'd said, determined. "You like me enough to date me. I'll make you love me one day." At the time, he'd found her naivety almost amusing. He hadn't realized that her persistence-the way she filled every silence, the warmth she carried into his cold, calculated world-would stay with him long after she left. Back then, she'd just been a distraction. A pleasant one, maybe, but nothing serious. Until she left him. Only then did he notice the emptiness she'd left behind-the way other women failed to hold his interest, the way her name haunted the edges of his thoughts. He'd told himself it was pride. Just wounded pride. But when he'd seen her again-walking into a hotel with Kade, laughing like she hadn't once begged him to stay-that's when it hit. The jealousy. The bite of it. The realization that he had never really let her go. "Don't forget," Victor said suddenly, voice low and cutting, "you were the one who came after me first." "And didn't I already agree to be your contracted girlfriend for a year?" Lana countered coldly. "I'll do that much. But when the year's over, I want us to end cleanly. No mess, no drama." "End cleanly?" he repeated under his breath, eyes narrowing. She nodded. "Exactly."But Victor's expression shifted-something dark and stubborn flaring behind his calm exterior. End cleanly. That wasn't what he wanted anymore. Not when every time he saw her, his control threatened to unravel. He didn't say another word. He just turned and left. When the door finally closed behind him, Lana exhaled a long, shaky breath. Her body still felt the heat of his presence, the shadow he left behind. The room smelled faintly of him-wolf musk, rain, and danger. Why had he come here so late at night? Surely not just to see her face. "Forget it," she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. "Don't think about it." She locked the door, turned-and froze. Freya was standing in the living room, her amber eyes fixed on her.