CHAPTER 61: CHAPTER-61. (CLASSIC MORRIS’ GENES).

His body did not move much, just a tiny shift of his shoulders as he sat up straighter, but it was enough.

Enough to make me feel like the ground beneath me had tilted a little. Like I had just poked something I should never have touched.

The room suddenly felt smaller, and the air felt heavier. Suddenly, my chest became tight like someone had tied me up with ropes.

I wanted to take the words back, swallow them down, pretend I never said anything.

But the sound of Caroline’s name was already out there, hanging in the air like smoke that refused to fade.

Holy Lord, why in the world did I mention Caroline?

It just slipped out, like my tongue had a mind of its own. One stupid little name, and now it feels like I have accidentally dropped a match into a room full of kerosene.

I don’t even know if he had any good or bad intentions towards her.

Maybe he doesn’t even care. Maybe he just blinked and moved on.

But my brain won’t let me stop circling around the thought: what if he does care? What if Caroline is suddenly on his radar because of me?

And worse... what if he is the blackmailer?

The thought makes my stomach drop.

My fingers actually went cold just imagining it. If he’s the one pulling the strings, then I basically handed him a gift-wrapped weakness.

A whole other person he can use to twist me around.

God, what if he goes after her first?

She was innocent. She already had a lot on her plate.

And now, probably, I served a whole platter she doesn’t even know exists.

I dragged her into it because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut for five freaking minutes.

Nicole’s eyes changed. They were not playful anymore, not mocking. No smug little twist of his lips. He was just... still. Watching me.

Measuring...maybe how to dig a grave behind your huge-a*s backyard.

And that silence it was the worst. Every second he did not speak made my heart pound harder, like it was trying to break out of my ribs and run away without me.

I could feel Lily pressed against my leg, clutching my skirt.

She was quiet, but even she had gone stiff. Like she sensed the storm too. Kids always sensed it before adults did.

I tried to wet my lips, but my mouth was too dry. My brain screamed at me to say something normal, something safe, but my voice betrayed me and came out too soft, too shaky.

"I..think we need to talk," His gaze then moved from me to Lily, and in the same moment his stone-cold eyes melted into something warm, he spoke, "Sweet pie, would you go to your aunt, Grace’s room. I will be there shortly."

And she actually went outside the room.

Just like that.

Without even a second of hesitation, Lily uncurled her tiny fingers from my skirt, like I was nothing but a piece of cloth she did not need anymore, and she ran off toward the door.

Her little shoes made that soft tap-tap-tap against the floor, each step sounding too loud in the silence. Too sharp stabbing in my mind.

It felt like a clock ticking down to something terrible, something I was not ready for.

My chest twisted. I wanted to grab her, yank her back, clutch her like a shield between me and him. I wanted to beg her, ’Stay, please, do not leave me with him, not now, not ever.’

The words were there, pounding against my throat like trapped birds, but I could not force them out. My mouth stayed shut, frozen, because his eyes were still on me.

Those eyes.

God, the heaviness in those cold eyes of his pinned me right where I stood.

They did not need chains or ropes, just the weight of that stare was enough.

I felt like a bug trapped under glass, like he could lean forward and squash me whenever he felt like it. And he knew it. I swear he knew it. Very well.

"Lily," I almost whispered it. My lips shaped her name, so soft it was barely a sound, just breath.

My heart was screaming at her not to go, begging in every language it knew. Stay. Please.

Do not leave me with him. But she did not even look back. Not once. She walked right out, small and calm, and the door clicked shut behind her with the gentlest sound in the world.

That little sound broke me.

Because now it was just the two of us.

The silence that followed was not empty. It was alive. It crawled across the walls, seeped through the floorboards, wrapped itself around me like invisible fingers closing in on my throat.

The air was too thick, like trying to breathe underwater. My lungs kept forgetting how to work. I dragged in air, but it came out shaky, uneven, like my whole body had turned against me.

He had not moved much. That was the worst part. Just the tiniest lean back, like he had all the time in the world, like he owned the very air I was trying to breathe.

His head tilted ever so slightly, and his arms dropped onto his knees, casual, loose, but it changed everything.

That small, easy motion somehow made him look ten times larger, like he was expanding, filling every inch of the room until there was no space left for me.

I could not even glance at the door. I did not dare. Because I knew, deep down, that his gaze was a leash. If I tried to run, it would snap tight around my neck and drag me straight back.

And then he spoke.

"Talk."

Just one word. Classic Morris’ Genes.

Low. Smooth. Almost calm. But it landed in my chest like a hammer, heavy enough to knock the breath out of me. It was not a request. It was not even an order.

It was simply... inevitable.

I swallowed hard, but the sound was too loud in the silence. My throat felt raw, my tongue thick, like speech had suddenly become an impossible skill I had never learned before.

Talk, he said.

But my brain was still screaming to run and hide in a burrow.