Keifers POV ✩✩✩
Yuri, what do you think you're doing?"
The words barely left my mouth before he closed the distance.
Too fast.
Too sudden.
I shoved him back immediately, the force sending him a step away from me.
"WHAT ON BHUDDHA'S GREEN EARTH ARE YOU DOING?!" I snapped, my voice cutting through the room sharper than I intended.
Yuri didn't look offended.
Didn't look surprised.
He just… smirked.
Like he expected that reaction.
Like it amused him.
Before I could move again, his hand caught my collar, pulling me forward just slightly—not enough to drag me, but enough to remind me he wasn't asking.
"You know…" he said quietly, voice almost casual, "I have evidence against you. And detective Jay."
My jaw tightened instantly.
There it was.
Said out loud.
Confirmed.
He paused, watching me carefully, like he was measuring every shift in my expression.
"I would just… give in if I were you," he continued.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
"And if you don't give me what I want…"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Intentional.
"Boom. Information out." His voice dropped, softer, but heavier. "You, and Jay are over."
His hand slid up, resting against my throat—not squeezing, not yet—but close enough to feel.
A warning.
A promise.
"Be a good boy," he added quietly.
Something in my chest snapped at that.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Something darker.
But my thoughts—
They weren't steady.
Not right now.
Jay.
The image hit first.
Her in that room.
Her voice.
The way she looked when she realized she was trapped.
I knew.
I knew he had her cornered.
And I did nothing.
A wave of frustration hit hard, sharp enough to make my jaw clench.
I should've moved sooner.
Should've stopped this before it got this far.
But now—
Now I was standing in front of the same problem.
Just in a different form.
"Stop."
The word came out sharper than I expected.
My hand caught his wrist before he could move again, forcing distance between us.
His belt hung loose now, unfastened.
Too far.
This was already going too far.
"Why?" I demanded, my voice lower now, tighter. "Why are you doing this?"
For the first time—
I wasn't composed.
I wasn't calculated.
And I knew he saw it.
Yuri tilted his head slightly, studying me.
Then—
He smiled.
Not amused.
Not mocking.
Something else.
Something deeper.
"Because…" he started, voice softer now, almost nostalgic.
His fingers moved, gripping my chin, forcing my gaze upward to meet his.
"Ever since we were kids, Keif…"
My breath stilled slightly.
"…let me tell you something."
His grip tightened just enough to keep me there.
"To be honest," he murmured, "I've always liked you."
The words landed heavier than anything else he'd said.
Not because of what they meant—
But because of when he chose to say them.
Now.
Like this.
"And now that I have this chance…" he let out a quiet chuckle, low and controlled, "it's finally time."
Something twisted in my chest.
Not sympathy.
Not understanding.
Just—
Disgust.
Frustration.
And something else I didn't want to name.
"This isn't a chance," I said flatly. "It's desperation."
For a second—
Just a second—
Something in his expression flickered.
Then it was gone.
Replaced.
Controlled.
Cold.
"You can call it whatever you want," he said.
His hand dropped from my chin, but he didn't step back.
Didn't give space.
Didn't give control.
"Doesn't change the situation."
My mind was already moving again.
Fast.
Sharp.
Back where it needed to be.
Because reacting to him—
That was exactly what he wanted.
And I wasn't giving him that.
Not fully.
"You're not thinking this through," I said, quieter now.
Measured.
"You think this gives you control?"
A pause.
I held his gaze.
"It doesn't."
That made him still.
Just slightly.
Enough.
"Because the moment you use that evidence," I continued, "everything burns. Not just me. Not just her."
A beat.
"You included."
Silence filled the space between us.
Tight.
Heavy.
Different now.
He didn't respond immediately.
Which meant—
He was thinking.
Good.
That's where I needed him.
Not emotional.
Not impulsive.
Thinking.
Because thinking meant hesitation.
And hesitation—
Was something I could work with.
My voice dropped slightly.
"You don't want to destroy this," I said. "You've had the chance. You didn't take it."
His eyes narrowed just slightly.
There it was again.
That flicker.
"That means you want something else."
I let the words settle.
Let him hear them.
Let him realize that I wasn't as cornered as he thought.
"Whatever this is," I added, "this isn't how you get it."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
More uncertain.
And for the first time since he walked into this room—
The control didn't feel entirely his anymore.
Not completely.
Not yet.
But enough.
Enough to shift something.
Enough to breathe.
Barely.
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