INICIAR SESIÓNLucien didn’t let go of Evelyn’s hand as they exited the police station. Her cheek was still stinging where Elena had struck, but more than the physical pain, it was the humiliation that lingered, like smoke that refused to dissipate.“You don’t have to say anything,” Lucien said softly, his thumb brushing the rising welt, a touch both tender and possessive. “Not now.”Evelyn shook her head slightly, gathering herself. “I just… I can’t believe she went that far. That she would…” Her voice faltered. “lock me up.”Lucien’s gaze darkened, sharp enough to cut steel. “She doesn’t care about rules. About law. About anyone except herself. That’s why I need to know everything she’s capable of. Every weakness. Every ally.”They walked briskly to the car, the night air cool against Evelyn’s flushed skin. Her pulse still raced, not from exertion, but from the intensity of his presence. Every step beside Lucien was like a tether, and yet she also felt untethered, raw and exposed in a way she coul
The boutique was all glass and light, polished marble floors, mannequins posed like untouchable art, racks of silk and tailored lines arranged with deliberate restraint. Evelyn moved slowly through the space, fingers brushing fabric, trying to breathe past the lingering sense that the world watched her differently now.Damien stayed close, arms folded, eyes constantly scanning reflections. “Take your time,” he said into his sleeve as a notification buzzed. He frowned. “I need to step outside. Business call. I’ll be right there, don’t leave the store.”“I won’t,” Evelyn said, giving him a small smile. “I’m safe in a room full of dresses.”Damien didn’t smile back. “Two minutes.”The door closed behind him.Evelyn exhaled and turned back to a rack of midnight-blue gowns, when she felt it.That familiar tightening. The kind that wasn’t fear, exactly, it was more of a sign of recognition.“You wear his protection badly.”The voice came from behind her - cool, precise, unmistakable.Evelyn
The safe house overlooked the city without belonging to it.Glass walls, steel lines, lights dimmed to a low, deliberate glow. It wasn’t meant to feel warm, but tonight, with the storm rolling in and the world pressing too close, it felt like a pocket carved out just for them.Lucien dismissed the last of the security detail with a wordless nod. The doors sealed. Silence followed, not empty, but expectant.Evelyn stood near the window, arms folded loosely, watching rain streak down the glass. The city blurred beyond it, anonymous and distant. She felt Lucien behind her before she heard him, his presence a familiar gravity now.“You should rest,” he said.She turned slowly. “So should you.”A corner of his mouth lifted. “Later.”They stood there, a few feet apart, the air between them charged with everything that hadn’t been said on the plane. Survival had sharpened something between them, stripped away pretense, left only truth and want and restraint fighting for dominance.Lucien clo
The plane cut through the clouds, smooth and relentless, the steady hum of the engines a counterpoint to the thoughts neither of them voiced.Lucien broke the silence first.“When we land, everything changes,” he said. Not as a warning, an acknowledgment. “There will be statements. Movements. People who suddenly remember my number.”Evelyn studied his face, the sharp angles softened only slightly by fatigue. “And Elena?”His expression darkened. “She’ll know by now. Sakamura’s channels are collapsing. The buyer won’t survive the aftermath not physically, but reputationally. That kind of humiliation spreads faster than blood.”“And that won’t satisfy her,” Evelyn said.“No,” Lucien agreed. “She thrives on proximity. On influence.”Evelyn absorbed that, then asked quietly, “Do I make you easier to reach?”Lucien didn’t answer immediately. He looked at their joined hands instead, the way her thumb rested unconsciously against his pulse.“Yes,” he said finally. “And harder to control.”Sh
The ship never knew what hit it.Lucien had timed it precisely, between patrol rotations, between satellite sweeps, between the complacent certainty of men who believed money bought immunity. The sea was calm, deceptively so, its dark surface reflecting nothing of the violence about to bloom beneath it.The first breach came from below. Explosive bolts sheared through the hull with surgical accuracy, not enough to sink the ship, just enough to cripple propulsion and flood the lower engine room. Alarms screamed to life, panicked and overlapping. Crew scattered. Orders were shouted in three languages at once.Lucien surfaced with his team like a nightmare given form.Black wetsuits. Silent weapons. No wasted movement.He boarded without resistance, because resistance required time, and time was something Sakamura’s buyer no longer had.“Locate her,” Lucien said through the comm, his voice calm, lethal. “No collateral.”The word collateral didn’t include anyone who had signed onto this t
The first thing Evelyn understood was that this place had no windows. The second was that it didn’t need them. Light came from recessed panels in the ceiling —cold, deliberate, designed to reveal rather than comfort. The room was large, empty except for a single chair bolted to the floor and a mirrored wall that wasn’t meant for vanity. It was meant for inspection. She sat straight up, with her back to the wall, hands folded in her lap, refusing to give them the satisfaction of fear. Whatever drug they had used on her was fading now, leaving behind only a dull ache and a razor-sharp clarity. Hiroto Sakamura entered without announcement. He had changed since she had last seen him. No longer the polished observer. Now he wore the calm of a man about to profit. “You adapt quickly,” he said, circling her. “That’s rare.” Evelyn followed him with her eyes but didn’t turn her head. “You won’t get what you think you will.” Sakamura smiled. “I already have.” He gestured toward the mi







