Mag-log inRowan stood in the basement for exactly thirty seconds after discovering Maxwell's body, his mind moving through shock, past rage, and settling into something far more dangerous—cold, crystalline clarity.He'd been compromised.His inner circle had been penetrated by someone he trusted implicitly. His security had been breached. His prisoner had been eliminated before he could extract the information needed to bring down Selene Vale.And Leon, his right hand, the man who knew every detail of his operations—was responsible.Which meant this wasn't just betrayal. This was war.Damien Holt steps out from the shadows near the wall, his posture relaxed, hands clasped behind his back. He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t speak first.He never does when things turn critical.Rowan turned away from the body, unable to look at it without seeing Leon's betrayal written in every detail. "I need a full security sweep and immediate lockdown protocols."Damien nodded once and moved.Within seconds,
The emergency meeting ran longer than Rowan anticipated. What should have been a quick crisis management session turned into three hours of negotiations, legal maneuvering, and damage control. By the time he finally extracted himself, it was nearly eight PM, and his patience had worn to nothing.He'd received exactly zero messages from Leon about the footage arriving.Which meant Harold was still stalling.Rowan made the call from his car, not bothering with pleasantries when Harold answered. "This is Rowan Adair. I'm done waiting. I'll be at Aviac in fifteen minutes. Have that footage ready, or we're going to have a very different kind of conversation about your restaurant's liquor license and health code compliance.""Mr. Adair, please, I—"Rowan ended the call and pressed the accelerator harder than necessary. The city blurred past as he navigated through evening traffic with single-minded focus. Someone was playing games with him, and he was done being patient.By the time he arri
Leon had already decided before he reached the gate.That was the terrifying part.There was no debate left in his head, no back-and-forth. Just a single, heavy certainty sitting in his chest like a stone.I’m doing it.He wasn’t doing this because he owed her. He was doing it because he couldn’t bear to lose her.His phone buzzed. A text from Rowan: Where are you? Need you back at the penthouse. Now.Leon stared at the message, his stomach twisting. Back to the penthouse. Back to where Maxwell was locked in the basement. Back to where Rowan trusted him implicitly, completely, without question.Back to where he was about to betray that trust in the worst possible way.He could still say no. Could drive straight to the penthouse, confess everything to Rowan, accept whatever consequences came. Rowan might be furious, might cut him off completely, but at least Leon would still be able to look at himself in the mirror.But Selene's voice echoed in his head: I saved your life. You owe me.
The silence after Selene's words stretched between them like a live wire. Leon stared at her, waiting for the punchline, the reveal that she was joking, testing him, playing another one of her games.But her expression remained steady, serious, almost gentle in its determination."Say something," she said softly.Leon's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His brain was still trying to process what she'd just asked him to do, the sheer audacity of it, the absolute insanity..."What?!" The word exploded out of him, loud enough to make her flinch. "You want me to do THAT?""Keep your voice down." Selene glanced toward the windows as if the walls themselves might be listening. "Leon, please—""Please?" He laughed, the sound bordering on hysterical. "You just asked me to—" He cut himself off, unable to even say it out loud. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea what would happen if—""I know exactly what would happen," she interrupted, her voice calm, measured. Too calm. "That's why it ha
Leon's phone rang at exactly the wrong moment—right as he was reviewing security protocols for the penthouse, making sure Maxwell stayed contained and Rowan stayed protected. He glanced at the screen, saw Selene's name, and almost declined the call.Almost.But something in him—that traitorous, pathetic something he'd tried to bury for nine years now —made him answer."Selene." His voice was deliberately cool. "What do you want?"The sound that came through the line made his blood run cold. A gasp, wet and desperate, followed by what might have been a sob."Leon." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling and weak. "Please. I need... I can't..."He was on his feet before his brain caught up. "Selene? What's wrong?""Can't breathe properly." Another gasp, more desperate this time. "Something's wrong. Really wrong. I need—please, Leon, I need you to come. Now.""Have you called an ambulance?" He was already grabbing his keys, his jacket, moving toward the door."No! No ambulance." She s
Rowan’s penthouse office was dark when he returned.Not dim. Not soft-lit. Dark. Rowan didn’t turn on the lights immediately. He stood in the doorway, jacket still on, one hand resting against the doorframe, breathing slowly.Maxwell’s voice echoed in his head.Check the footage. May nineteenth. Three p.m.Someone had tried to kill her.His ex-wife.Marcelline's face flashed through his mind—pale and vulnerable in his bed this morning, defiant and angry as she'd slapped him, carefully composed as she'd asked him to leave her alone. Nine years of marriage where he'd been too blind, too focused on building his empire to see what was right in front of him.Rowan crossed the room and finally tapped the wall panel. Lights came on in controlled layers, desk lamps first, then the ceiling. His office came alive in sharp edges: black glass desk, leather chair, screens mounted like silent witnesses.He didn’t sit. He picked up his phone.“Get me my tech team,” he said the moment the call connec







