How to Tame a Silver Fox – Episode 16
Harper’s victory vanished the moment she saw Bryan. He looked unchanged from the man she had left—carefully dressed, deceptively relaxed, and pleased by the fear he could summon without raising his voice.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Maria stopped several yards away, sensing the danger in Harper’s posture.
Bryan pushed away from the wall. “I wanted to congratulate you. You finally found an audience.” His smile never reached his eyes.
Harper knew Chris stood somewhere behind her. The knowledge gave her courage, but she refused to turn and summon him like a weapon. This confrontation belonged to her.
“You threatened to kill me,” she said. Several nearby students slowed, suddenly interested in something more serious than campus gossip.
Bryan’s smile thinned. “It was a text. You always were dramatic.” He stepped close enough for Harper to smell his cologne, the scent dragging old arguments into the present.
“Stay away from me.” She took out her phone and opened the message. “I saved it. If you contact me again, I’m taking this to the police and the university.”
His hand closed around her wrist. “You think your father’s attack dog makes you untouchable?”
Chris moved before Harper could answer, but she raised her free hand. “Don’t.” The command was meant for him, not Bryan.
Everything in Chris rebelled against stopping. Still, he remained two steps away, close enough to act if necessary and furious enough that Bryan finally noticed him.
Harper looked down at the fingers gripping her wrist. “Let go.” Bryan tightened his hold for one defiant second.
She drove the heel of her shoe onto his foot and tore her arm free. When he cursed and lunged, campus security—already nearby because of Christina—intervened.
Maria handed the guards her phone. She had recorded the encounter from the moment Bryan approached, including his attempt to dismiss the threat and the instant he grabbed Harper.
Bryan’s charm collapsed. He accused Harper of setting him up and warned that she had no idea what she was doing. Security escorted him away while students watched in uneasy silence.
Only after he disappeared did Harper begin to shake. The red marks around her wrist seemed to pulse beneath Chris’s stare.
“You asked me not to fight your battle,” he said carefully. “So I didn’t.” The restraint cost him; she could see it in his clenched hands.
Harper met his eyes. “You stayed.” It was not accusation or gratitude, but something suspended between them.
Chris reached toward her injured wrist and stopped before touching it. Harper closed the remaining distance herself, placing her hand in his. His thumb brushed her pulse, and the heat between them became more frightening than Bryan’s threat—because this time, neither of them could pretend not to feel it.
