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As Triston struggled in Paxton’s grip, his mind raced with curiosity. He could feel the tension in the air, the sense that something bigger was unfolding before him, and he wasn’t going to be left out of it. But Paxton wasn’t budging. The cold, unyielding grip was enough to remind him that when it came to Branden Duncan, no one dared to cross boundaries—not even for the thrill of the chase.
Triston glanced at the balcony railing, then back at Paxton, his frustration growing. “Come on, Paxton! You don’t understand. Branden is going after her. We’re missing out!”
Paxton, still holding him firmly, didn’t react to the desperation in Triston’s voice. His eyes remained fixed ahead, not even glancing at the chaotic scene unfolding below. The second floor had quieted now, and the sight of the downed men and Catherine’s effortless departure only heightened the tension.
“Mr. Duncan doesn’t chase after anyone,” Paxton said, his voice sharp. “And neither should you.”
Triston’s mouth went dry as Paxton’s words hit him. He understood what Paxton was getting at: Branden had been observing Catherine from the start. And Branden, unlike anyone else, wasn’t a man to chase after something unless it piqued his interest enough. That, or he had already decided she was worth his time.
But why? Why was Catherine such a mystery? Why did she catch Branden’s attention so quickly? Triston could feel the pull of unanswered questions.
Meanwhile, Catherine’s swift departure didn’t go unnoticed by Branden. As he leapt over the railing with ease, there was no hesitation in his movements. He was driven by something beyond curiosity. Something told him that this wasn’t just another encounter. There was more to Catherine than anyone could guess.
The tension between him and her was almost palpable, like an invisible thread weaving through the club, threading them closer together with each passing moment. It was more than a simple fight or even the broken men lying in the hallway. It was about control, power, and knowing when to act.
Catherine had proved herself to be far more than she appeared—an enigma wrapped in a dangerous package. Branden’s heart raced as he landed lightly on the ground floor, his eyes scanning the room for her.
But Catherine wasn’t just walking away without a plan. She had already anticipated his every move.
She didn’t need to look back. Catherine knew Branden would follow. It was a matter of time, and she wanted to test him, see how far he was willing to go. Not for the first time, she found herself intrigued by him.
Her footsteps echoed through the bar as she weaved through the crowd, maintaining her pace. But she wasn’t about to make it easy for Branden. She slowed, allowing him to catch up, but kept her focus sharp.
As she approached the exit, a figure stepped out from the shadows—one Branden had been expecting. But instead of greeting her with the smooth confidence he was known for, he saw only a flash of movement.
Branden’s eyes narrowed. This was no longer a game. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Catherine turned the corner sharply, disappearing into the night, leaving Branden to make the decision: would he chase her, or would he let her slip away again? He had to act fast.
But instead of running, Branden stood still for a moment. Why was he hesitating?
He didn’t need to wonder long. As Catherine’s figure began to fade into the shadows, Branden stepped forward, his resolve as strong as ever. He didn’t need to be told twice—he would follow her until the very end.
Back inside, Paxton sighed, as if sensing what was about to happen. Triston, still seething with frustration, broke free from his grip, darting toward the door. “I’m going after them!”
“No,” Paxton said firmly, his gaze still fixed ahead. “You won’t catch up.”
Triston’s frustration was palpable, but Paxton’s words were enough to give him pause. Branden wasn’t someone who simply followed others’ orders. If he wanted to chase after Catherine, it was on his own terms.
And Paxton knew Branden’s next move would be something no one would ever expect.