Chloe inhaled sharply.
"No."
Her voice was firm, unwavering, cutting through the air between them.
"I don't need your help. I don't need you involved in my life."
Kian barely blinked, watching her, reading every ounce of resistance in the way she squared her shoulders.
Unmoved.
He already knew she'd say no.
But he wasn't the kind of man who waited for permission.
His fingers closed around the suitcase handle, fluid, effortless—claiming it before she could even react.
Her breath hitched.
And then—his words landed.
"I already booked a hotel for both of you."
The statement was smooth, final.
Chloe stiffened. What?
Carter blinked up at him, watching, processing—still protective, but momentarily confused.
And Chloe? She felt the irritation coil tightly in her chest.
"What—"
Kian barely tilted his head, already moving toward the exit, suitcase effortlessly in tow.
Her fingers twitched, frustration boiling—but what choice did she have?
She couldn't make a scene.
She couldn't drag this into unwanted attention.
So, she followed.
Because Kian Ashford never left space for refusal.