He sets down a USB drive.
Silver. Clean.
“What is it?”
“Proof. Paper trails. Surveillance. The moment Dimitri overplayed his hand. Use it wisely, Your Highness. And be careful. He’s bought people inside your circle.”
I pocket the drive without a word.
When I stand, so does he.
“Thank you for the drink,” he says. “I look forward to seeing how this plays out.”
I don’t answer.
I offer Cecilia my arm and lead her back toward the suite.
War has always been in my blood.
But now, it feels personal.
Chapter Twenty-Four-Cecilia
The revelation about Dimitri is bothering him.
Like he’s not quite in his body.
Like the betrayal scraped something primal and private, and now he’s running on pure instinct.
We make it back to our suite in silence. Atlas doesn’t speak except to nod at the men who accompany us in.
But when his hand tightens on my arm, I understand.
I stop moving.
I wait quietly by the door while the room is swept.
I’ve done this before—going through motions like these with my father, my uncles.
Security checks, silent protocols, quiet commands.
This isn’t new.
But doing it with a man I am definitely falling in love with?
That’s terrifying.
After a few minutes, the guards finish and file out.
Atlas speaks low, sharp Greek to his men as they shut the door behind them.
I don’t ask for a translation. His body language tells me enough.
Tense. Controlled. Barely.
“We should go back to the yacht,” he mutters, his voice rough and distant.
I step behind him and place my hands gently on his shoulders.
