Chapter 3

Selene POV

I stared at Caspian's business card for three hours.

Three hours of sitting on my narrow dorm bed, turning the heavy cardstock over and over in my hands until my fingerprints smudged the pristine white surface. Three hours of Jessica asking if I was okay and getting nothing but mumbled responses. Three hours of my world spinning off its axis while I tried to convince myself that what had happened in the coffee shop was some kind of elaborate hallucination.

But the photograph was real. It sat on my desk like an accusation, my parents' faces staring back at me with eyes that held secrets I'd never imagined.

By ten PM, I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

My fingers trembled as I dialed the number. It rang once before a familiar voice answered.

"I wondered how long you'd make me wait."

No greeting. No surprise. Like he'd been sitting by the phone, counting down the minutes until my resolve crumbled.

"We need to talk," I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded. "But not over the phone."

"Smart girl." There was approval in his tone that shouldn't have warmed me the way it did. "There's a restaurant on East 58th Street. Quattro. Ask for my table."

"When?"

"Now."

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, heart hammering against my ribs. Every rational part of my brain was screaming at me to stay in my safe little dorm room, to pretend none of this was happening. But the photograph on my desk made that impossible. I needed answers, even if they destroyed what was left of my carefully constructed life.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Quattro, feeling wildly underdressed in my jeans and vintage leather jacket. The restaurant was the kind of place that probably didn't even list its prices on the menu all dark wood and crystal chandeliers, with a maître d' who looked like he could buy and sell my entire neighborhood.

"I'm here to see..." I fumbled for words. What was I supposed to call him? Caspian? Mr. Santoro? Dario's terrifying father?

"Miss Marcellus," the maître d' said smoothly, like he'd been expecting me. "Right this way."

He led me through the main dining room, past tables full of people who looked like they owned small countries, to a private alcove in the back. Caspian rose when he saw me, and the simple courtesy somehow felt more dangerous than any threat.

He'd changed from his afternoon suit into something even more devastating charcoal wool that fit him like a second skin, paired with a dark shirt that was open at the collar. Without a tie, I could see the strong column of his throat, the hint of what might have been a scar just below his left ear.

"You came," he said, pulling out my chair with old-world gallantry that made my stomach flutter traitorously.

"Did I have a choice?"

His smile was sharp. "There's always a choice, Selene. The question is whether you can live with the consequences."

A waiter appeared as if summoned by telepathy, setting down a glass of wine I hadn't ordered. The liquid was deep red, almost black in the dim lighting.

"I don't drink," I lied, because accepting anything from this man felt like stepping into quicksand.

"Tonight you do." It wasn't a suggestion.

I took a sip to avoid arguing, and the wine exploded across my tongue rich and complex and probably worth more than my textbooks. Everything in Caspian's world was like this, I realized. Beautiful and expensive and just a little bit dangerous.

"Tell me about my father," I said, needing to break the spell he seemed to weave just by existing.

Caspian leaned back in his chair, studying me over the rim of his own glass. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything. Why my mother left him. Why she lied to me about him being dead. Why he wants me now."

"Those are three very different questions with three very complicated answers."

I waited, letting the silence stretch between us. It was a trick I'd learned in my marketing classes people couldn't stand uncomfortable quiet, and they'd usually fill it with more information than they'd planned to give.

But Caspian wasn't most people. He seemed perfectly comfortable with the tension, content to watch me squirm while the weight of his attention made my skin prickle with unwanted awareness.

"Your mother left Lucien because she was pregnant and terrified," he finally said. "She knew what kind of man she'd married, and she knew what kind of life waited for you if she stayed."

"What kind of life?"

"The kind where children learn to shoot before they learn to read. Where loyalty is bought with blood and betrayal is punished with death." His fingers traced the stem of his wine glass, and I found myself mesmerized by the movement. "Where little girls grow up to be bargaining chips in games they never asked to play."

The words hit me like ice water. "And now?"

"Now Lucien needs allies. The Russians are pushing into his territory, and there are whispers of federal investigations getting too close for comfort. He needs to consolidate power quickly, and marriage alliances are the oldest currency in our world."

"So he wants to sell me off to the highest bidder."

Something dark flashed in Caspian's gray eyes. "Something like that."

The waiter returned, setting down plates I didn't remember ordering. The food looked like art delicate arrangements of ingredients I couldn't identify, accompanied by sauces that probably had names in languages I didn't speak.

"I'm not hungry," I said, which was true. My stomach was tied in knots that had nothing to do with food.

"Eat anyway. You're going to need your strength."

There was something in his tone that made me pick up my fork. The food was incredible, bursting with flavors that made my dorm cafeteria seem like prison rations by comparison. But I barely tasted it, too focused on the man across from me.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked between bites. "What do you get out of this?"

Caspian's smile was predatory. "Who says I'm helping you?"

The fork froze halfway to my mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that marrying my son serves my interests just as much as it serves yours. Maybe more."

Cold dread settled in my stomach. "How?"

"An alliance with Lucien's bloodline legitimizes my claim to certain territories. It sends a message to my enemies that I'm not to be underestimated." He leaned forward, and his cologne washed over me that same dark, expensive scent that had haunted my dreams since this afternoon. "And it keeps you close enough to watch."

"Watch for what?"

"To see what other surprises your father might have in store."

I set down my fork, appetite completely gone. "So I'm just another pawn to you. Just like I was to Dario."

"Not just like Dario," Caspian said quietly, and something in his voice made me look up sharply. His eyes were fixed on my face with an intensity that made heat pool low in my belly. "What my son did to you was careless. Cruel. If you were mine, I would never" He stopped himself, jaw clenching like he'd said too much.

"You would never what?"

"It doesn't matter." He signaled the waiter for the check, his mask of polite distance sliding back into place. "What matters is your decision. Marry Dario and accept my protection, or take your chances with whatever Lucien has planned."

"Some choice," I muttered.

"Better than no choice at all."

The waiter appeared with a leather folder, and Caspian slid cash inside without looking at the bill. Hundreds, from what I could see. Enough to feed my family for a week, casually dropped like pocket change.

"I need time to think," I said as he stood to leave.

"You have until tomorrow night."

"That's not enough time"

"It's all the time there is." He moved around the table, and suddenly he was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Lucien's people have been watching you, Selene. They know where you live, where you go to school, where your mother works. The only reason they haven't moved yet is professional courtesy a grace period to let me make my offer first."

My blood turned to ice. "My mother? What does she have to do with this?"

"Everything." His hand settled on my shoulder, fingers warm through the thin fabric of my jacket. "She made enemies when she ran, and those enemies have long memories. Marry Dario, and I can protect her. Refuse..." He shrugged elegantly.

"You're threatening me."

"I'm offering you a solution to a problem that's going to destroy your life whether you accept it or not." His thumb brushed across my collarbone, and I shivered despite myself. "The difference is that my way, you get to keep the people you love."

He stepped back, leaving me cold and breathless, and pulled out his phone. "My driver will take you back to campus."

"I can take the subway"

"No." The single word carried absolute authority. "From now on, you don't go anywhere alone. Not until this is settled."

A black sedan was waiting outside, sleek and expensive and obviously armored. The driver held the door open without speaking, and I slid into leather seats that probably cost more than my semester's tuition.

Caspian leaned down to the open window, his face illuminated by the restaurant's golden light. "Think carefully tonight, Selene. But remember some doors close whether you walk through them or not."

The sedan pulled away from the curb, carrying me back toward campus and the impossible decision that waited there. But as I watched Caspian's figure disappear into the Manhattan night, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd already made my choice.

I just wasn't sure which choice I'd made.

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Your mother's shift ends at 11 PM. She takes the Q46 bus home. Such a long walk from the bus stop to your apartment. So many dark alleys in Queens.

My hands were shaking as I typed back: Who is this?

The response came immediately: A friend of your father's. We'll be in touch.

I stared at the phone screen until the words blurred, my heart hammering so hard I was sure the driver could hear it. Outside the window, Manhattan's glittering skyline rushed past like a fever dream, beautiful and terrifying and utterly foreign.

Somewhere in this city, my real father was making plans for my future. And somewhere else, Caspian Santoro was waiting for my answer to a question that would change everything.

But first, I had to make sure my mother made it home alive.