Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 60921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Silence follows.
Viktor blinks like he’s recalibrating. “Okay,” he says, almost delighted. “That was excellent.”
“You’re not going to be so charmed in thirty seconds.”
He gestures toward Knight. “You came alone.”
I smile under my mask. “Do you think I’m alone because I’m stupid?”
His eyes narrow. “Or because you’re arrogant?”
“Or because I don’t wait politely while my boyfriend bleeds in basements.”
Knight makes a rough sound that might be a laugh. Or might be pain. I don’t look at him yet.
Because Viktor is still standing. And I’m not done. I start toward him.
Viktor finally shifts into something harder. “Grab her,” he snaps.
From a side door, two more guards surge into the room.
I brace— and then a voice cuts through the space like a knife.
“Hands where we can see them.”
The men freeze.
So do I.
Because that voice is the sound of consequences arriving with a badge. The door behind me fills with bodies. Not cops. Not yet. These are bigger shadows. Heavier footsteps. Controlled violence.
Maddox Security.
BRAVO energy in human form.
I recognize the way they move before I recognize faces. The posture of men who’ve survived war and decided to weaponize their survival for the people they love.
One of them steps in first. Sharp eyes. Command presence. That quiet predator calm.
Sawyer.
Another is broader, colder.
Riggs.
And at the center— Dean Maddox himself appears like the storm Viktor tried to destroy.
Viktor’s smile falters for the first time. “Ah,” he says. “There you are.”
Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. He simply nods once.
And BRAVO moves. Two men peel off to secure the side door. Another closes distance on Viktor’s remaining guards. In seconds the room becomes a controlled takedown—fast, precise, brutal without being sloppy.
I dart to Knight. “Hi,” I say tightly.
His eyes flare with relief and fury. “You disobeyed orders.”
I start sawing through his restraints with the concealed blade I pulled from my boot. “And you broke your promise.”
The last tie snaps. He surges to his feet, swaying slightly. I catch him.
He grabs my face with both hands like he has to confirm I’m real. “I’m so glad you came.”
I glare. “Of course I came.”
He closes his eyes for a beat. Then opens them with that raw, wrecked emotion he tries so hard to control. “I’m going to apologize for leaving.”
“Later.”
“I’m going to apologize a lot.”
“Also later.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh. Then his gaze slides past me. Viktor is on his knees now, pinned by two BRAVO operatives.
Dean stands over him like a judge who already knows the verdict. “You partnered with Serafina,” Dean says, voice cold.
Viktor’s grin is smaller now. But he tries anyway. “Business.”
Dean nods once. “Call it what you want.”
He looks toward Rae—who isn’t physically here but is probably in everyone’s earpieces, running the board like a queen.
“Local PD,” Dean says. “Now.”
The rest happens like a controlled avalanche. Sirens approach. The club upstairs goes into panicked lockdown. We’re moved out through a secured corridor while Maddox men seal the scene and hand Viktor over to the police the second they arrive.
The Monarch’s staff is herded into statements and shock.
The myth of Viktor Luka cracks in real time. And somehow—somehow—Knight and I make it above ground together.
Alive.
Breathing.
Unbroken where it counts.
Outside, the night air hits my lungs like freedom.
Knight keeps a hand at my lower back the whole time, possessive and steady, like he’s terrified I’ll evaporate if he lets go.
Good.
Let him be scared.
He earned that.
When we reach the curb, he turns me gently toward him. His face is bruised. His mouth is split. His eyes are bright with too much emotion.
“You shouldn’t have come in alone,” he says.
I lift an eyebrow. “I didn’t. I brought my bat.”
He huffs a laugh. Then his expression sobers. “I was trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“And I was trying to keep you alive,” I shoot back. “We can compare hero complexes later.”
His hands slide to my hips. He leans in, forehead to mine. “I broke the promise.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not doing that again.”
“Good.”
“Together,” he says.
I search his eyes.
He’s not saying it to soothe me. He’s saying it like a vow.
“Together,” I agree.
He kisses me right there on the sidewalk—slow at first, then deeper, like he’s pouring all the fear he couldn’t say into the only language that feels honest. I kiss him back like relief is a weapon. Like love is. Like we won.
When we break apart, Arrow is a few feet away, arms crossed, expression carved from exasperation and pride.
“I told you to stay put,” he says.
I grin sweetly. “I’m medically allergic to ‘stay put.’”
He shakes his head. “Gage is going to lose his mind.”
“Let him.”
Knight’s mouth twitches. Then he turns toward Arrow and Dean. “Serafina?” he asks.
Dean’s expression is unreadable. “Tonight was one piece,” he says. “Not the whole war. But Luka’s cooperation with her just got forcibly discontinued.”
Sawyer adds, “And now we have leverage, audio, and witnesses.”