Elisabeth's POV
"Enough talking for tonight. Put down that bottle and get some rest. And keep your friend in line."
Jefferson's words cut through the air like shards of ice, each syllable delivered with the precision of a man accustomed to absolute obedience.
He didn't bother looking at me again. Instead, he pivoted sharply and strode away, his imposing silhouette vanishing into the shadowy corridor like smoke dissipating in the wind.
His footsteps echoed briefly before fading completely, leaving me standing alone with the crushing weight of his authority pressing down on my shoulders.
My pulse hammered against my ribs, but terror wasn't the culprit. Pure frustration coursed through my veins, mixed with bewilderment and something darker I refused to acknowledge. Every interaction with Jefferson left me feeling like I was walking a tightrope blindfolded, never knowing when I might fall. The most maddening part was that he controlled every aspect of this twisted dance between us.
