LOGINSloane couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think. Couldn't move. Declan Pierce's face was inches from hers, his fingers still curved under her chin, and the look in those black eyes said he was done asking politely.
"You have the wrong woman," she'd said.
He didn't believe a single syllable of it. She could see that clearly — the slight tilt of his head, the dangerous patience of a man who had all the time in the world and knew it.
"Mr. Pierce." Her voice cracked. "![]()
Two hundred dollars.Sloane stared at the price tag on the panda puppet and did the math she already knew she didn't want to do. Six kids. One toy. Five more disasters waiting to happen if she walked out of this store with a panda for Jax and nothing for anyone else.She gritted her teeth and bought it.And then — because the universe had a standing policy of finishing what it started — she bought five more things.Cole got a plastic gun that made genuinely alarming sound effects. He held it up like a trophy and immediately aimed it at a mannequin.Jax clutched his panda to his chest with both arms and refused to put it down for the rest of the afternoon, narrating its adventures to anyone who would listen.Cassidy and Juliet picked matching kites — pink and silver — and spent the walk to the next store debating whose was superior.Ava chose a plastic ring set that she immediately distributed among her fingers
"You know what?" Sloane's voice came out sharp and bright as a blade. "It doesn't matter one bit whether he's interested in me. I'm interested in him. Goodnight, Tyler."She hung up before he could breathe a single word.Then she stared at her phone screen, breathing hard, until her reflection stared back at her from the black glass.Did I just say that?She had absolutely said that.She dropped the phone onto the couch cushion like it had burned her and pressed both hands over her face.Tyler Cross. Standing in a bar, wearing that familiar expression, warning her away from his own brother like he still had any right to her anything. After everything. After walking away without explanation and leaving her to rebuild herself from scratch — from six scratches, specifically.Same blood, he'd said. I know exactly what he's capable of."So do I," Sloane muttered at the ceil
Something was wrong with this conversation.Everyone at the table could feel it — the strange charge in the air, the way Declan Pierce was looking at Sloane like she was the only person in the room, like Maya and Tyler and all the birthday candles and cocktail glasses had simply ceased to exist.Tyler felt it too. His jaw tightened. His eyes cut to Sloane's face with something sharp and unreadable burning behind them.Maya, never one to leave well enough alone, stepped forward with her most dazzling smile. "Mr. Pierce — do you actually know Sloane?"Declan didn't look at Maya.He looked at Sloane."A place like this," he said quietly, his voice dropping low enough that only she could catch every word, "isn't somewhere you belong."Sloane's breath hitched.What does that mean? What was he — was that a threat? Was he angry? She'd just used his name as a human shield in front of his own brother,
Maya's laughter cut sharp through the music."PIERCE Group?" She pressed a manicured hand to her chest like Sloane had just told the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "Honey. Declan Pierce? Do you hear yourself right now?"Every head at the table swung toward Sloane like a synchronized performance.She didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't give them a single crack to pry open."I know." She tilted her head, voice smooth as spilled wine. "Sounds unlikely. But what can I say?" A small, devastating smile. "He just likes me."The laughter faltered.Because she wasn't laughing with them. She was completely, dangerously calm — and that calm was contagious in the worst possible way. Doubt flickered across faces. Eyes cut sideways. Maya's smile tightened at the corners.She's not joking. Sloane could see them thinking it. Is she joking? She doesn't look like she's joking—"If he's yo
"I really can't — I shouldn't just show up to someone's birthday after years of—""Stop." Maya's arm was already out the window, phone extended. "Number. Now."Sloane took the phone. Typed. Handed it back. That was apparently that."Tonight. I'll text you." Maya's grin was wide and bright and slightly dangerous. "You're back in Chicago. You need this, trust me." The window rolled up. The BMW pulled into traffic. Gone.Sloane stood on the sidewalk, staring at nothing, already regretting every single one of her life choices.The Velvet Room was exactly the kind of place that cost forty dollars for sparkling water and charged you for the air. Dark velvet walls. Amber lighting that made everyone look gorgeous and slightly guilty. Music that pulsed through the floor and into your bloodstream whether you wanted it to or not.Sloane smoothed her denim skirt and walked in.The last time she'd walked into a
Maya threw her head back and laughed — the kind of laugh designed to draw an audience."PIERCE Group?" She pressed a hand to her chest like Sloane had just told the best joke of the evening. "Declan Pierce is your boyfriend? Honey. Do you hear yourself?"Every eye at the table swung to Sloane.She didn't blink."I know it sounds unlikely," she said, voice smooth as glass. "But there's really no accounting for taste. He just—" She lifted one shoulder. "Likes me."The table went uncertain. A few exchanged glances. Because the thing about a lie delivered without apology is that it starts to feel like the truth — and Sloane wasn't flinching, wasn't laughing, wasn't giving them anything to grab onto.Then Tyler's voice cut through the noise."If he's your boyfriend—" He leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes sharp and watchful. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about it?"Sloane met his
That hand.Sloane stared at Declan's fingers locked around her wrist and couldn't stop thinking about it — the same hand that had snapped a grown man's wrist like a dry twig thirty seconds ago. Cool skin. Ironclad grip. Not a tremor of hesitation.This man is dangerous."Hello again, Miss Carter."
The second the revolving doors of PIERCE Tower spat her back onto the sidewalk, Sloane tipped her head toward the gray Chicago sky and let out a breath that was one syllable away from a scream.What have I done?She'd just accepted a job — been hand-picked — by the man whose DNA her six children we
It was him.Sloane's brain screamed it. Her body already knew — every nerve ending firing at once, her stomach dropping forty-two floors in a single second.Move. Say something. Do NOT let him see it on your face.She forced her feet across the threshold, chin up, expression smooth, heart detonatin
Three years later."Breakfast! Now or never!"Sloane set the last of the six bottles on the kitchen table, stepped back, and braced herself.The bedroom door exploded open.Six children hit the hallway at full sprint, a stampede of tiny feet and shrieking voices, and Sloane had approximately two se







