The drive back was a storm of unspoken accusations. Julian drove with a reckless ferocity, his knuckles white on the wheel. Bianca's words—probably still wearing a wire—were a virus in his mind.
"Did you know?" Julian asked, his voice a low, terrifying vibration.
"Know what, Julian? That the Director is a coward?" Elara countered, her heart racing.
"That they were coming for you. That this 'extraction' in the tunnels was just the beginning." He slammed the car into park in the underground garage. He turned to her, his eyes wild with a dark, obsessive hurt. "Are you waiting for him, Elara? Are you waiting for the Director to 'save' you from me?"
"I'm waiting for you to trust me!" she screamed, the frustration finally boiling over.
Julian grabbed her, his kiss a desperate, punishing thing. He dragged her out of the car and toward the elevator, his grip bruising. He didn't take her to the suite. He took her to the security hub.
"Search her," Julian commanded his female guards. "Every inch. If she has a tracker, if she has a wire, I want it found."
The humiliation was a new kind of hell. Elara stood still, her dignity a cold flame, as they searched her. They found nothing. But the damage was done. Julian stood in the doorway, watching her with a mixture of relief and self-loathing.
He had protected her, but in doing so, he had become the very thing she needed protection from.