That was smart.
But not smart enough.
I release Vincent with enough force to send him stumbling back. "Here's how this works. You leave. Now. You tell your Club masters that Peyton Quinn is under Delano protection. And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to corner her, threaten her, or touch her without permission, they'll answer to me."
“I wonder what Silas Delano would have to say about that.”
“Doesn’t matter what he says.”
"You're one man, Delano.”
"I'm the man who burned White Ember." I remind him of who I am, the violence, the rage, the part of me that doesn't negotiate. "Ask around. See how that worked out for the last people who thought I was bluffing."
Something flickers in Vincent's expression. He's heard the rumors, which I’ve just verified. Now he knows what I'm capable of.
"The Hollow Club won't forget this," he says.
"Good. Make sure they remember it next time they think about sending you."
“I could have shot you right where you stand,” he scoffs.
“Yeah, but you didn’t.”
Vincent straightens his suit, nods to his men. They back toward the door, hands visible, no sudden moves. At the threshold, Vincent pauses. "She's not worth dying for, Delano. Think about that before you burn more bridges. You have to live here.”
"I've already thought about it. Get out."
They leave. The door closes. Silence rushes in. I turn to find Peyton standing exactly where I left her. Her eyes are wide, and she’s breathing fast, looking at me like she's seeing me for the first time.
"Marcus," I say without looking away from her. "Lock the front. Don't let anyone else in."
"You got it, boss."
His footsteps fade. The lock clicks. We're alone in the dim morning light filtering through windows that have seen too much and never tell.
"Blake—"
I'm moving before I think, before I can stop myself, crossing the distance between us and backing her into the hallway where the shadows are thicker.
"Do you understand what just happened?" My voice comes out rough, barely controlled. "That was a kidnapping attempt. Another one. It was dressed up in suits and business proposals, but that's what it was. They were going to take you."
"I know.”
"And you just stood there. You didn't run. You didn't hide. You didn’t listen. You challenged him."
"I wasn't going to let you deal with my mess on your own.”
"You could have died." I'm crowding her now, hands on either side of her head, caging her against the wall. Not threatening. Protecting. Claiming. "If Marcus hadn't been here, or if I’d been in another room?—"
"But you were here." Her voice is quiet, steady. Her hands come up, rest against my chest. I feel the touch like electricity. "You protected me. Again."
"That's my job."
"Is that all I am?” She tilts her head back and meets my eyes directly. "A job?"
I should lie. I’ve been trained for this. I know that I should put distance between us before I do something we can't take back.
But I'm done lying.
