The storm came at midnight.It was not a storm that raged down avenues and flooded the city in water. No, not this storm. This storm was cyber. Strategic. Deadly silent.Killian's security monitors flashed to red, alarm after alarm blaring one after another like a string of warning bells. The Graves mainframe—supposedly the most secure place in the world—was bleeding information.Killian stood in the control center, jaw clenched, suit jacket tossed on the floor. "They are tapping data out of the internal safe.""They breached two firewalls within ten minutes," Samir, his best cyber security expert, told him. "We think the point of entry is one of our deep repositories—the ones only you and Sophia had access to."Killian gazed over at Elena. She didn't even blink."Elena swore she twirled those keys around. Sophia turned them over. She's still down in the holding area. I'll go talk to her again."Killian caught her wrist before she could leave. His hand was hot, unyielding."She won't
The smell of blood and fire still clung to Killian's jacket as he sat in the shadows, his back to the window that looked out over the city he had once controlled with such ease. But tonight was not like victory. Victor was still out there. Sophia was a specter with a knife pressed against the very backbone of Graves Enterprises. And Dante—the wild card none of them could manage—had vanished with a vow and a glare that lingered in Elena's heart.Elena stood on the other side of the room, arms crossed, regarding Killian with equal measures of worry and hard-protectiveness. The quiet between them was no longer the kind that indicated distance—it was the kind that resonated with all the unspoken words because there was too much to risk saying it wrong."He's not returning tonight," she finally spoke. "Dante's a phantom when he wants to be."Killian raised his head slowly, eyes circled with fatigue but still impossibly keen. "He doesn't need to return. He's already caused the harm.""You d
Glass shattered inside the penthouse, its fragments scattered all over like shreds of her broken will. Elena did not flinch. She could not. Killian stood before her, his eyes seething with fury—but beneath that, agony fluttered like a wounded animal."You knew about Sophia," he growled, his tone low and dangerous. "You knew she had betrayed me."I knew it," Elena explained, attempting to maintain a steady tone when her heart was pounding. "But I didn't have proof. And I wasn't going to accuse your best friend without it."Killian paced, his hand tangled in his hair. "She was my family. The one person I trusted when I couldn't trust myself. And she was playing Victor the whole time.".Elena stepped nearer. "She didn't just betray you, Killian. She betrayed us."His eyes met hers, and something in him gave way. The barricade between them splintered—not quite enough to fall, but enough to sense the heat of what lay behind it."She sold us out," Killian breathed. "She gave Graves' secrets
The gust of wind whipped through the vacant trees that lined the park bench Elena sat on, still staring at her phone as though Sophia's words had burned a hole through the screen."You can't trust him. He's like the others."She reread it, praying against hope that the letters rearranged into a lie. But they did not. They just glared at her, confirming what part of her already suspected.Her fingers hovered over the screen. A response teetered on her lips—anger, defiance, even curiosity—but she typed them out, then erased them, before they had a chance to be complete. Whatever she wrote to Sophia, Sophia would spin around. That woman lived on power, on rendering others impotent. Elena would not let her have it.She clipped the phone shut and shoved it into her coat pocket, gasping through the pain in her chest. The weight of it all—the betrayals, the secrets, the half-lies—was on her ribs like a clenched fist.Her father used to work for Sophia. Killian had known her identity even bef
Elena's breath hiccuped as she looked at Killian, her own heart racing beneath her skin. The air in the room was charged with a foreboding silence, its weight piling up second by second. Those words spouted just seconds earlier were still ringing in her mind — a promise, not just of emotion, but of something deeper… something raw and unadulterated.She hadn't expected him to be so agitated. Killian Blackstone was not a fragile man, but there he was — shoulders set, eyes burning with doubt, fists clenched at his sides as if he was holding himself together with string."I didn't want you to see me like this," he finally whispered roughly. "But I couldn't keep it up anymore. Not after today."She walked towards him hesitantly, trying to fit it together in the war waging in her chest. She'd experienced flashes of reality, but now it was coming down in one massive lump. "The things with Sophia? The threats, the fact that she knew all about me?"Killian's gaze turned icy. "Sophia's always b
The sound of Elena's heel click sounded down the icy marble corridors of the Kingsley manor, each step a bitter jolt to the storm in her breast. Her shoulders were squared, but her eyes were empty. She had come out of the fight with Sophia a burning acuity of intent, but the hurt was not gone. If anything, it had penetrated deep into the bone.She found Killian in his study, leaning back in the desk chair, his gaze being on the fireplace although the fire was extinguished hours earlier. The faint light of the chandelier created shadows on his face so that he looked like a man who carried centuries of sin.He did not speak when he lifted his eyes to look at her. He did not move. He simply glared."I talked to Sophia," Elena said definitively.His jaw tightened. "I know.""I know about the accident. The fire. You and Sophia being—" Her voice caught, not from jealousy, but from the extent of everything coming apart at once. "And I know about the cover-up."Killian nodded once more. No ap
The sunlight poured through the penthouse in the morning like a blessing, warming up chilly marble floors and softly golden playing on Elena's face where she sat bundled up in the corner of the couch. The small leather book lay open on her knees, white fingers tracing along the page as if she was afraid to lean on it too hard lest the words vanish.Killian's words—so real, so agonizingly unforeseen—had jolted something inside her. Not much. But in a way that caused her throat to constrict with a hope she was still not ready to willingly accept.He'd never talked to her like this before.No gestures. No sweeping pronouncements or silks-shorn falsehoods. But only gossamer confessions etched on pages for no one's eyes but his. And that made them true. And more powerful than anything he'd ever spoken aloud.She closed the diary, clutched it in a hard-held moment before she rose and went quietly toward the kitchen where the smell of strong coffee hung in the air.Killian braced himself on t
Killian's penthouse was quiet, a chill to the whirlwind of feeling still between him and Elena. The darkness had descended over the glass walls, stars twinkling like shattered hopes just beyond their grasp. And in the hush between them, they stood—no longer enemies, no longer strangers, but something in between. Something raw. Something real.Elena perched on the edge of the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, the huge sweater that wrapped around her doll-like figure. The fiery glint had faded from her eyes, but they bore the weight of unshed tears and unspoken wars. Killian sat across from her, bent knees, fists clenched into tight little balls. The space between them crackled—littered with what was and wasn't said."You meant it?" She whispered, her voice soft.Killian sat up, and for the first time, he didn't shield. "Every word."Her throat moved up and down as she gulped a hard swallow. "Then why is it that I still feel like I'm not breathing when you're here?"His jaw clenched.
The moment Elena stepped into the penthouse, she sensed tension wrapping around her like a choker. It was suffocating silence—not the reassuring type, but the one that hung with unuttered words, broken trust, and the faint scent of all that had failed. Killian stood against the window, rigid in his position, his shoulders set against bearing the burden of everything that had happened. He did not face her. He simply drew breath slowly, "You're back." His tone was coarse and worn, but not blazing with fury. It was worse than fury. It was resignation. Elena's heart pounded in her chest as she pushed open the door and closed it softly behind her. "Yes. I needed… time to think." He did not respond immediately. His silence pounded louder than anything he might have spoken. She took a step or two towards him, but not close enough to stand at his side. "You lied to me," she accused, her anger trembling but under control. "Not just about Sophia, but about why you did everything in secret.