A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 108

Chapter 108

She was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open.

All Elissa wanted was to go home, take a quick shower, and collapse into bed for a sleep so deep she’d forget her own name.

But the night had other plans.

Or rather, Rowan had other plans.

She’d barely taken a few steps when a sharp blast of a car horn startled her. Heart racing, she spun around and caught sight of Rowan’s infuriatingly stoic face through the rear window, which had just rolled down.

His features were sharply cut–high brow, deep–set eyes, the kind of cold, chiseled look that made it clear he kept the world at arm’s length.

Elissa sobered up a little. “Mr. Murphy, is there something you need?”

A deep red scarf was loosely wrapped around her neck, but it still couldn’t fully hide the delicate pale curve of her throat. The streetlight above cast a soft glow over her face, making her skin look even more flawless than usual.

Normally, she’d have her dark hair pulled up for work, but tonight it tumbled over her shoulders, glossy and smooth as wet silk.

She looked, from head to toe, the picture of sweetness and composure.

And yet, the second she spoke to him, there was always a note of rebellion in her voice that anyone could hear.

Rowan didn’t seem rushed. He withdrew his gaze and said, “I wanted to discuss the project’s progress with you, Ms. Drummond.”

Since starting at the clinic, Elissa hadn’t once made a habit of working late into the night.

If it was about saving lives, she wouldn’t complain.

But what Rowan wanted had nothing to do with her actual responsibilities at this hour.

“The project assistant updates the progress every week and Director Jones sends the report to your inbox.”

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Chapter 108

“But I want to hear today’s update.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Or is it that you’re quitting, Ms. Drummond?”

Corporate tyrant.

Elissa took a deep breath, forcing her foggy, wine–soaked brain to find the right words, though the chill in the air made her voice stiff and her lips numb. “Today, Simon

Charles and I went over the plan we discussed last week-”

“In the car,” Rowan interrupted.

He fixed her with an unblinking stare. “The window’s open. I’m cold.”

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Once again, Elissa had no choice but to give in.

She got in, and tried her best to deliver a clear, thorough report.

If nothing else, she wanted to sound responsible–and irreplaceable–so she left out no detail.

Rowan probably didn’t understand half of the technical jargon, but surprisingly, he listened to every word. When she finished, he leaned back and, with infuriating calm, asked a question that had nothing to do with work. “You know, letting a man into your apartment this late–aren’t you worried Frank will find out?”

Business was business. Personal was personal.

Elissa was tipsy, but her reflexes were sharp. She met Rowan’s eyes. “And what’s that got to do with you?”

He should just keep an eye on Lorraine.

If Lorraine didn’t have men over in the middle of the night, that was her business.

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