My phone vibrated in my hands.

Unknown: Don’t take it off again.

The words sent a shiver through me. I hadn’t even had the bracelet on for ten minutes. How could he know I had taken it off? My eyes darted around my dark bedroom as if he might be standing in the corner, watching me even now. The realization should have frightened me more. Instead, it settled over me like a heavy blanket, warm, heavy, and strangely comforting.

Unknown: Good girl.  

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. The shame was still there, but it was getting quieter. It was getting easier to ignore. That night, sleep came more easily. 

I woke up feeling strangely rested for once. I looked at the time. It was already almost ten a.m. I must have been more tired than I thought. Today was Saturday, and I didn’t have any classes or shifts at the hospital. I stretched my arms above my head with a satisfied sigh.

I spent the morning helping Mom around the house. We folded laundry together in the living room, the scent of fabric softener thick in the air. I tried to stay present, matching her rhythm as we sorted towels and sheets. But my mind kept drifting. Every time my sleeve brushed the bracelet, a small wave of calm washed over me. It was like a sigh I didn’t have to make. And I hated how quickly I had come to rely on that feeling.

By afternoon, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had retreated to the couch with my textbooks and notes spread across the coffee table. The house was quiet except for the distant sound of Mom humming in the kitchen and the occasional rustle of pages as I tried to read. I stared at the same paragraph about patient assessment for nearly fifteen minutes without absorbing a single word. My fingers kept finding their way beneath my sleeve. Not to take the bracelet off. Just to touch it. To trace the smooth edge of the leather, to press my thumb against the clasp. Each time I felt it there, solid and warm from my skin, something tight in my chest loosened. The constant noise in my head, the guilt, the pressure of being perfect… It all dulled, just a little.

I was becoming dependent on a piece of leather from a man I barely knew. A man whose world could destroy everything my father had spent his life fighting against. But even as the shame burned in my throat, I didn’t take it off. Instead, I pulled my sleeve higher, just enough to see the black band against my skin. I ran my fingertip along it slowly, almost reverently. The same way Dominic had touched me when he fastened it back on. The memory of kneeling in front of him, of his fingers in my hair and his low, approving voice, flooded through me. For a moment, the world went quiet again.

I got startled when my phone rang. I let out a shaky breath to regain some form of control. I answered the call.

“Doing anything fun today, Jasmine?” Sophia's warm and excited voice fell through the phone.

“Nothing much, mostly studying.”

“Get dressed then! There’s this new café downtown, and I really want you to come with us.”

I hesitated.

“I heard their pastries are amazing,” she tempted.

I almost said yes. But the idea of sitting across from them, trying to act normal while hiding everything, felt exhausting.

“I think I’ll stay in today,” I told her. “I have a lot of studying to catch up on. Next time?”

She let out a disappointed groan. “Fine, I’ll let it slide this time, but not next time. Take care.”

We hung up. I sat on the couch with my textbooks spread out in front of me. I nodded, resolved to get some work done. It worked for maybe an hour. Eventually, I gave up on studying completely. I grabbed my laptop and opened it on the coffee table. My hands hovered over the keyboard for a long moment before I typed his name into the search bar: Dominic Morozov.

The results flooded the screen. It was the same articles I had seen before. Alleged ties to organized crime. Photos of him at galas in tailored suits, cold and untouchable. One image showed him shaking hands with a politician, his expression unreadable. Another captured him leaving a sleek black car, with a scarred-faced man standing protectively nearby. I scrolled slowly, heart beating faster. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. Every new article made the danger feel more real. But I couldn’t stop. I clicked on a recent photo of him and stared at his face. I was met with those sharp, grey eyes that had looked down at me while I knelt.

I couldn’t look away. I touched the screen softly. A strange mix of fear and longing twisted in my stomach. I closed the laptop abruptly, cheeks burning with shame. What was I doing? Digging deeper into the life of a man I knew was dangerous… while wearing the bracelet he gave me. I pressed my fingers against the leather again, seeking that fragile sense of calm. I was slipping further, and I didn’t know how to stop.

Hesitantly, I opened my laptop once more. His picture appeared on the screen. Those grey eyes stared straight into the camera, straight into me. I stared at the picture, heart beating faster, thumb absently stroking the bracelet on my wrist.

Dad walked into the living room still in his suit and briefcase. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s studying going?”

I jolted and slammed the laptop shut just as he rounded the couch. My cheeks burned. Had he seen the screen? Had he seen Dominic’s face?

Dad paused, glancing at my closed laptop, then at me. “Everything okay? Did I startle you?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “I was just… focused. That’s all.”

He studied me for a second longer with that gentle, observant look that always made me feel seen. Then he nodded and put his briefcase on the armchair across from me.

“If you need to talk about anything, I’m here. You know that, right?”

“I know,” I whispered, clutching the edge of my laptop like a shield. “Thanks, Dad.”

He gave me a warm smile and changed the subject, but I could still feel his quiet concern lingering in the air. Switching with his briefcase, Dad settled into the armchair, loosening his tie.

“What are you working on?” he said lightly.

I blinked at him for a second before regurgitating the last title of the chapter I was on.

“Sounds complicated,” he teased. “I’m so proud of you. Being a nurse isn’t easy. So, it’s important to know when to relax. Didn’t want to go out with your friends?”

I kept my eyes on the closed laptop in my lap. “There’s so much to do. I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Mm.”

That was all he said. It should have been a relief. Instead, the silence pressed harder. Dad had always been patient with me. He never demanded answers. He simply waited, quietly, until I was ready to give them. Guilt wrenched my guts.

He leaned back and studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You used to tell me everything.”

The words hit harder than they should have. I looked down. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad.”

A small smile touched his mouth. “I’m aware. So, a boy.” He paused. “I’ll try not to interrogate him too harshly.”

I laughed as I clenched my laptop tighter. If he knew, only if he knew. For one dangerous second, I almost told him. There was a man. He made me feel calm, and he frightens me because I was beginning to need him. The words crowded behind my teeth. But how could I explain something I barely understood myself? How could I tell my father, the man who had spent his life chasing people like Dominic, that I had… feelings for one?

“When I’m ready, I’ll tell you.”

Dad looked at me for a long moment and nodded. I didn’t know what it meant.

“Besides, the one my little girl chose must not be so bad. She has good taste,” he said softly.

Emotions rose suddenly and painfully in my chest. Before I could stop myself, I stood and crossed the room, wrapping my arms around him. Dad stiffened in surprise for half a second before his arms came around me automatically, warm and steady.

“You really are tired,” he murmured softly.

I laughed weakly against his shoulder. Maybe I was. Or maybe I was just tired of feeling split in half. His hand rested briefly on the back of my head, the familiar gesture achingly gentle. The same place Dominic touched. The comparison made shame crash over me so violently that I pulled away too quickly. Dad noticed, but he said nothing.

“I’m going to clean up before dinner,” I mumbled, guilt gnawing at my insides.

I didn’t wait for his answer. I gathered my books, notes, and laptop with trembling hands before retreating upstairs. Once my bedroom door was shut, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. Dad’s concern still lingered in my chest, warm and familiar. Dominic’s voice lingered there too.

Good girl.

I squeezed my eyes shut. They were nothing alike. One had spent his life protecting people from men like Dominic. The other had somehow learned exactly how to make me feel enough. And yet, in different ways, they both made me feel safe.

The thought made something twist painfully inside me. I curled my fingers around the bracelet. This wasn’t just dangerous anymore. What frightened me most was how quickly the guilt faded whenever he made my mind go quiet.