Elise stepped out into the back garden, desperate for fresh air.

Her mood was sour, and the ballroom felt suffocating.

To make matters worse, her ankle throbbed relentlessly.

The initial sprain on the red carpet hadn't seemed so bad, but the prolonged standing, the walk across the stage, and the final descent had pushed her past her pain threshold.

She sank onto a secluded bench, slipping off her high heels and bending forward to massage her swollen ankle… when a tall, imposing shadow fell over her.

She blinked, then lifted her gaze to find William Levine looking down at her.

The lights behind him obscured his face, but his intense, dark eyes were unmistakable.

Elise turned her head away, continuing to rub her ankle with deliberate focus.

Suddenly, a pair of clean, masculine hands gently lifted her foot.

"Let go of me," she said, her voice flat and laced with clear hostility.

William ignored her protest and began to expertly massage her ankle.

Elise winced, enduring the sharp discomfort, but her patience snapped. "William Levine!"

The pain was already excruciating—was he trying to punish her?

She hadn't even provoked him tonight, aside from defying his wishes and attending this charity ball.

In her mind, she owed him no obedience, and he had no right to confine her to her own home.

She wasn't some caged songbird, and the thought alone fueled her rising anger.

"Bear with it," William warned softly, his fingers finding the precise, inflamed spot.

Before she could retort, he applied a firm, calculated twist to her ankle.

"Ah!" A sharp cry escaped her lips—the pain was so intense she nearly kicked him in the face.

"What more do you want from me, William?!" she shouted, her composure completely shattered.

"Try standing up. See if it feels better," William instructed, calmly helping her back into her shoes before rising to his full height, seemingly unfazed by her outburst.

Elise shot him an icy glare, but he repeated patiently, "Stand up. Check your ankle."

Gritting her teeth, she cautiously rose from the bench.

Wary of the pain, she was overly careful, placing too much weight on her uninjured foot.

The treacherous high heels made her wobble precariously.

William's arms shot out, steadying her, and for a fleeting moment, her body brushed against the solid wall of his chest.

It was the briefest contact, but Elise immediately tried to pull away… only to find herself firmly drawn into his embrace.

He held her tightly, as if terrified she might vanish.

Elise's heart hammered wildly in her chest.

Whether it was the sheer strength of his arms or the sudden rush of turbulent emotions, she found it hard to breathe.

She struggled against him, pounding her fists against his broad back as she cried out furiously, "Let me go! Release me!"

William, however, buried his face in the curve of her neck, his arms locking around her like unyielding steel.

For a heart-stopping second, Elise felt he might actually absorb her into his very being.

She continued to fight, gasping for air, afraid she might truly suffocate in his grasp. "Let go… I can't breathe…" she managed to choke out.

William seemed deaf to her pleas. His hold didn't loosen; instead, it tightened further…

Soon, Elise's face was flushed a deep crimson, her body pressed so tightly against his she felt on the verge of being utterly consumed.