Mag-log inChloe’s POVThe police were gone by ten.Kane was in custody. His crew was scattered. Ronan had shaken the last hand, exchanged the last number, and come back to where the rest of us were standing on the waterfront with the particular expression of a man who had just closed a file.“It’s done,” he said. Not dramatically. Just fact.Jaxon rolled his shoulder and looked out at the water. “For now.”“For now,” Ronan agreed. “Kane’s connected, but without leadership and with the Kozlov case already in trial, there’s no appetite for a rebuild. We’ll monitor.” He looked at me. “But you’re not the target anymore, Chloe. You can breathe.”I tried breathing. It felt strange. Like a habit I’d gotten out of.We went back to the warehouse because there was nowhere else obvious to go. Someone made coffee — Lucian, automatically, the way he d
Marcus’s POVThe venue was a waterfront event space hosting a public photography exhibition. Open to the public, well-lit, steady foot traffic, three entry points and two exits, which was terrible for security and perfect for a trap, because Kane’s crew would see opportunity written all over it.Chloe stood in front of the mirror in the warehouse getting ready, and I stood in the doorway trying to look like I was reviewing the comms check and not watching her.“You’re watching me,” she said, without turning around.“I’m reviewing the comms check.”“You’re watching me and calling it something else.” She turned around. She was wearing a blue dress, simple, nothing dramatic—we’d specifically avoided anything that looked like a costume. She needed to look like herself. A little exposed, a little alone, a woman at an art exhibition who maybe hadn’t been careful enough ab
Chloe’s POVI recognized Ronan’s footsteps before I saw him.That was a strange thing to realize. But I’d spent enough time at the compound to know the way he moved — measured, deliberate, the kind of walk that said he’d already assessed the room before he walked into it. The warehouse door opened and he came through first, and behind him was Jaxon, and the sight of both of them in my Seattle life was so disorienting that I stood up from the couch and just stared for a second.Ronan looked the same. Raven-black hair, green eyes that clocked the entire warehouse in three seconds flat. He looked at Marcus, then Dominic, then Lucian, then me.“You look good,” he said. “Better than I expected, honestly.”“Thanks,” I said. “That’s either a compliment or an insult.”“It’s an observation.” But something in his expression was warm, briefly, before i
Marcus’s POVThe name came through at eleven forty-seven PM on a Tuesday, five days after the hotel.Victor Kane. Former Vulture enforcer. Age thirty-one, last known location Portland, moved to Seattle approximately four months ago. Long sheet — assault, extortion, two counts of armed robbery that hadn’t stuck because witnesses had a way of changing their minds. Connected to the Vulture MC through Viktor Kozlov, who was currently serving time in Chicago.I sat with the file open on my laptop and read it twice. Then I called Ronan.He picked up on the second ring. “Tell me you have something.”“Victor Kane,” I said. “Ring any bells?”A pause. The kind that meant yes. “Kozlov’s cousin,” Ronan said. “Lower rank, but nastier. Kozlov probably had lines he wouldn’t cross. Kane doesn’t.”“He’s been in Seattle for four months. Building
Chloe’s POVI wore a blazer to visit the office. Armour, basically. The kind of outfit that said I am a professional person who has a normal life and definitely did not spend last night in a converted warehouse after being shot at through a hotel fire escape.It was a very good blazer. I didn’t think it was working.Adrian looked up when I knocked on his open door, and his expression did the thing it had been doing lately — that careful, assessing look that meant he’d noticed more than he was saying.“Chloe. Come in.”I sat across from his desk. Straightened the blazer. “Before you say anything…I’m okay. The situation is being handled, I just wanted to stop by and see everyone.”“I heard there was an incident at a hotel downtown two nights ago,” he said. “Two men were found zip tied in an alley.”“I wouldn’t know anything about that.&rdquo
Dominic’s POVI woke up at six fifteen because I always woke up at six. Didn’t matter where I was or what had happened the night before. My body ran on a schedule that nobody had asked it to keep.The warehouse was quiet. Grey morning light came through the high windows in flat, even strips. I lay on the couch for a moment, staring at the ceiling, piecing together the previous twelve hours. Hotel. Fire escape. Gunfire. Eggs. A two-hour negotiation that had somehow ended with four people agreeing to share a building and figure out the rest as they went.I sat up.The spare room door was closed. Marcus’s usual spot at the table was empty, his mug rinsed and turned upside down on the drying rack. I looked at the couch where Marcus had been sitting at midnight when I’d fallen asleep, and he wasn’t there either.I looked at the spare room door again.I was not going to be weird about this.I stood up, rolled m
Alina’s POV – Three Days Later“I want to spend time with each of you separately,” I announced at breakfast. “Before I make my final decision about the commitment thing.”Jaxon looked up from his coffee. “You mean like dates?”“Kind of,” I said. “But more… meaningful. I want to really talk with eac
Her answer was to take my hands and place them on the bottom of her sweater, guiding me as I lifted it over her head. The moonlight from the library window caught her skin, painting her in silver and shadow. She was beautiful, and for a moment, I just stared, my throat tight.“You’re shaking,” she
Maddox’s POVShe’d been distant. Not obviously—Alina was good at pretending everything was fine. But I’d spent months learning to read her, and I knew when something was off.It had been two weeks since the Vulture ambush. She’d thrown herself into work
Alina’s POV - Three AMThe screaming woke me from a dead sleep.Not loud screaming—Jaxon was too cool for that, even in nightmares. But I’d grown a sixth sense for the sounds of the three men who’d become my world, and I knew immediately something was wrong.I grabbed a robe and padded down the hal







