For me.
The memory didn’t belong to Cloe. It belonged to Selene. Selene before the venom. Selene before the betrayal. The one who made me believe in a family that didn’t reek of blood. She should’ve been the one kneeling. She should’vewantedto kneel.
I slowed. Stopped. My gaze swept the room below, slicing through every tuxedo, every sequined distraction until I found them again.
Wolfe.
And her.
Cloe looked at him like he was goddamn scripture. Like breathing was just another form of obedience.
My breath hitched and then—fuck.
My cock stirred. Thickened. A reflex. A betrayal.
Because for a split second, I imagined she was looking atmelike that.
Me she wanted.
Me she would’ve crawled for.
If I’d claimed her first.
But I hadn’t, had I?
It was Wolfe. Always fucking Wolfe.
I turned away, not bothering to hide the tent in my pants as I cut across the mezzanine. Let them stare. Let them wonder. I took the stairs fast, boots hitting hard enough to echo. Through the front doors. Down the corridor. Out.
Cold night air hit me like a punishment. I dragged it in deep—lungs burning. My hand fumbled for my keys, fingers tight.I needed out before I burned the whole place down.
The Aston beeped once. Ruthless. Black on black. I climbed in, hit the ignition, and let the V12 growl like a predator in heat. The door clicked shut. Clean. Deadly. A silencer wrapped around a gunshot.
Wolfe could have her. Hell, he could have all of it—every woman who looked at me first. Every goddamn empire. I didn’t need to own them. I drove through them instead.
City streets blurred as I drove. I didn’t even blink at the oncoming lights, my mind fixed on Cloe’s stare as she looked at my brother. Lightning cut across the sky overhead and the rain started, smacking the windscreen hard as the torrent came down. Thethud, thud, thudof the wipers started as I turned the wheel.
I didn’t know why I indicated, didn’t know why I turned. Didn’t know why I found myself outside her fucking building…again.I lifted my gaze to the penthouse apartment. I needed to leave her alone, justfucking move on.And I would. I fucking would in a heartbeat.
You don’t have to be strong here, Cloe.My words resounded in my head as the memory of that day in my office rose. Her whimpering and needy, pushing back against me as I massaged her to completion. I gripped the wheel and lifted my gaze once more. I fucking hated the hold she had over me. Hated the way my thoughts drifted to her every goddamn time. I had to find a way to leash this…even if it bought me here to the woman who was trying to destroy me.
Movement came from the corner of my eye. I turned my head as headlights shattered the darkness and the deep crimson Maserati MC20 tore out of the parking lot and accelerated hard. My jaw clenched, and that hunter instinct in me roared to the surface. I shoved the Aston into drive and punched the accelerator, hunting the woman I once saidI do,through the city streets.
She almost disappeared, neon red tail lights disappeared into darkness. I took the corner hard and braked. Then I caught her in front of me, driving into some underground carpark of what looked like a newly built apartment complex. I glanced at the boom gate as it closed behind her. I glanced around, trying to find something familiar. Why the fuck was she here? Irritation turned to anger, then jealousy.
But I wasn’t jealous of her.
I was jealous because she was a safe target.
The person I was really jealous of was my goddamn brother.
Headlights died before the soft illumination of the interior lights came on. I watched her climb out dressed in a taupe thigh-high leather coat. I knew exactly what was under it too—because she used to wear nothing for me too.
Movement caught my eye as the elevator doors opened and a guy walked out. I squinted, finding his outline in the murky light. The guy was built, heavy in the upper body. I sucked in a hard breath as she headed toward him. My fists locked around the steering wheel. Blood roared in my ears as she reached for him, fisted his jacket and yanked him hard against her.
Her hard lips smashed against his. It was a fucking battleground—his fist in her hair, yanking her head back as he bruised her mouth with his.
She wanted it. Craved it. Melted in a goddamn instant as he opened her mouth and buckled to his need. She used to kiss me like that. When she wanted to be ruined. When she needed to forget who she was—and what she was.
