He closes his eyes for a beat. Then opens them with that raw, wrecked emotion he tries so hard to control. “I’m going to apologize for leaving.”
“Later.”
“I’m going to apologizea lot.”
“Also later.”
He makes a sound that might be a laugh. Then his gaze slides past me. Viktor is on his knees now, pinned by two BRAVO operatives.
Dean stands over him like a judge who already knows the verdict. “You partnered with Serafina,” Dean says, voice cold.
Viktor’s grin is smaller now. But he tries anyway. “Business.”
Dean nods once. “Call it what you want.”
He looks toward Rae—who isn’t physically here but is probably in everyone’s earpieces, running the board like a queen.
“Local PD,” Dean says. “Now.”
The rest happens like a controlled avalanche. Sirens approach. The club upstairs goes into panicked lockdown. We’re moved out through a secured corridor while Maddox men seal the scene and hand Viktor over to the police the second they arrive.
The Monarch’s staff is herded into statements and shock.
The myth of Viktor Luka cracks in real time. And somehow—somehow—Knight and I make it above ground together.
Alive.
Breathing.
Unbroken where it counts.
Outside, the night air hits my lungs like freedom.
Knight keeps a hand at my lower back the whole time, possessive and steady, like he’s terrified I’ll evaporate if he lets go.
Good.
Let him be scared.
He earned that.
When we reach the curb, he turns me gently toward him. His face is bruised. His mouth is split. His eyes are bright with too much emotion.
“You shouldn’t have come in alone,” he says.
I lift an eyebrow. “I didn’t. I brought my bat.”
He huffs a laugh. Then his expression sobers. “I was trying to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“And I was trying to keep you alive,” I shoot back. “We can compare hero complexes later.”
His hands slide to my hips. He leans in, forehead to mine. “I broke the promise.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not doing that again.”
“Good.”
