Chapter 5 – Caught

LILA

I told myself I wouldn’t think about it.

About him.

But that was a lie.

After stumbling into Ryder’s studio last night, I’d barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that sketch—my sketch—staring back at me from the wall. My face, my outline, caught in his messy lines, like I’d been living in his head long before I ever moved into this house.

Why me?

The thought kept me restless, twisting under the sheets until dawn light crept through my curtains. And when I finally gave up on sleep, I ended up wandering through the house again, as if drawn to the possibility of running into him.

That was the problem. For all his sharpness, all his mocking smiles and warning glares, Ryder had gravity. He pulled me in, whether I wanted it or not.

And today, I got caught in it.

It happened in the middle of the day, when the mansion was oddly quiet again. Mom and Richard were out—something about a meeting—and Ryder… well, I didn’t know where Ryder was.

At least, not until I spotted him in the sunroom.

He was sprawled on the couch, legs stretched out, head tipped back against the cushions, shirt damp and clinging to his chest. He must’ve just come back from the gym—his hair was wet at the edges, and the thin cotton fabric did absolutely nothing to hide the definition underneath.

I froze in the doorway, caught off guard. My breath stalled somewhere in my throat, but instead of looking away, my eyes betrayed me.

They lingered.

On the curve of his collarbone, on the way his chest rose and fell with each lazy breath, on the sharp lines of his stomach where the fabric rode up just a little too high.

God, he was beautiful in that raw, careless way. Not polished, not like the boys I used to know. There was something untamed about him, something dangerous, and my body knew it before my brain could stop it.

I should’ve walked away.

Instead, I stared.

And that’s when his eyes opened.

Gray. Sharp. Direct.

Like a predator catching sight of prey.

Heat flushed my face, my stomach dropping as realization slammed into me—I’d been caught staring.

The slow curve of his mouth was worse than a smirk. It was lethal.

“See something you like?” Ryder’s voice slid through the space between us, low and lazy, like he was enjoying every second of my mortification.

I scrambled for words, my mouth opening but no sound coming out. My hands twisted at the hem of my shirt, heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it from across the room.

“I—no—I wasn’t—”

He sat up then, movements unhurried but precise, like he had all the power in this moment and knew it. His eyes never left mine as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You were staring.”

“I wasn’t,” I whispered, but the denial sounded weak even to my own ears.

His smile widened, wolfish. “Liar.”

I swallowed hard, every nerve in my body firing at once. He looked at me like he could see straight through me, like he knew every thought I’d had since stepping into his studio last night.

The silence stretched, thick and charged. My skin prickled under the weight of it, my cheeks burning.

I forced myself to move, stepping further into the room instead of retreating. Maybe I was crazy, but I couldn’t let him see how much he rattled me.

“You’re imagining things,” I said, aiming for steady but landing somewhere closer to shaky.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Am I?”

The challenge in his tone sent a thrill down my spine. He was playing with me. Testing me.

And the worst part was—I didn’t hate it.

I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself, to act unaffected. “Maybe you should stop assuming every girl wants you.”

That earned me a laugh, low and rough, the kind that curled around my insides and made it hard to breathe. He leaned back again, arms spreading across the couch like a king on his throne.

“Maybe they do,” he said simply, his gaze burning into me.

My lips parted, my breath shallow. God, he was impossible. Infuriating. And yet… my body betrayed me again, warmth pooling low in my stomach.

I hated how much I wanted to keep looking at him.

I turned my face away, desperate for air, but that only made it worse—because I could feel his eyes following me, heavy and relentless.

I should’ve left. I should’ve said something sharp and walked out.

But my feet stayed planted, my chest tight, caught in whatever dangerous game he was pulling me into.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice softer but no less intense.

“You’re curious about me, aren’t you?”

My heart stuttered. “What?”

“That’s why you were in my studio last night,” he continued, his tone measured, deliberate. “Why you can’t stop looking at me now. You want to figure me out. You want to know what’s under the surface.”

I shook my head, too quickly. “You’re wrong.”

But the look on his face told me he didn’t believe me. And maybe, deep down, I didn’t believe myself either.

He stood then, rising to his full height, and suddenly the air shifted. He moved toward me, each step unhurried but full of intent.

I backed up instinctively, my pulse spiking, until my back hit the doorframe. Trapped again.

He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. His presence was overwhelming—heat radiating off him, his scent lingering faintly, something sharp and masculine.

“See something you like?” he murmured again, softer this time, but far more dangerous.

My throat went dry. The words caught there, tangled and useless, while his eyes searched mine like he was waiting for me to admit something I couldn’t.

My lips parted, a shaky breath escaping, and for one wild second I thought he was going to close the space between us.

Then—

A sound echoed down the hall.

The front door. Voices. Mom and Richard.

Ryder’s eyes flicked past me, then back, and just like that, the moment shattered. His expression shifted, guard snapping back into place.

He leaned down slightly, close enough that his breath brushed against my ear as he whispered, “Careful, step-princess. One of these days, I won’t let you look away.”

And then he was gone, brushing past me into the hall, leaving me pressed against the doorframe, trembling, my body burning with everything unspoken.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Because he was right.

I had seen something I liked.