"Come here, little one."

Her breath caught. The trap was elegant. The first choice was obedience, a retreat. The second… the second came with a price she could already feel settling in her chest like warm honey.

"I told you to wait in the car, Scarlett."

He removed his glasses slowly, folding them and setting them on the side table. He didn't smile. He never smiled when he was about to teach her a lesson.

Her voice was a careful whisper, laced with a performative innocence she knew he saw right through. He didn't look up from the book in his hand. Silver at his temples, glasses perched low on his nose, the picture of unshakeable calm.

Now he looked up. His gaze wasn't angry, which would have been easy. It was assessing. Knowing. He closed the book with a soft thump that felt louder than thunder.