Barron stayed. Andhe meant it.
He gathered his trousers, yanked the zipper.
He didn’t speak right away. He didn’t move. Just sat on the edge of the bed, his chest still heaving, his shirt half-open, the sweat on his skin cooling like surrender.
I sat with the blanket wrapped around my waist, legs curled beneath me, body still throbbing from the way he took me—not like he was entitled, but like he was starving. Like he had waited too long to be allowed to feel anything that wasn’t grief.
Wolfe hadn’t left the doorway. The room pulsed with heat, breath, and silence. Barron finally looked up. His voice wasn’t broken. It was quiet. But it cut.
“She came to the office.”
Wolfe didn’t blink.
“Selene?”
Barron nodded.
“Tonight, after the raid. Place was torn apart. She walked in like it didn’t matter. Like she still belonged.”
He exhaled.
“Trench coat. Heels. Nothing underneath but black lace and audacity.”
Something cracked in Wolfe’s jaw.
“She offered a deal,” Barron continued. “She said if I forgave her—if I took her back publicly—she’d make the investigation disappear. Said she had strings. Said she still owned the narrative.”
Wolfe’s voice came low.
Dead.
“She touched like the blood she spilled wasn’t still on her hands.”
Wolfe exhaled. The kind of breath that sounded too much like grief.
“It always was.”
Barron didn’t answer.
I watched them both. The tension between them wasn’t sharp anymore. It was old.
Wolfe stepped farther into the room.
“Did you consider it?”
Barron turned his head. Met Wolfe’s stare.
“Long enough to feel the bile rise.”
My throat caught. My body tensed. Because when he looked at me—I saw it. He hadn’t just chosen to walk away from Selene. He had crawled through the wreckage of his empireto get to me.
And I didn’t breathe again until Wolfe nodded. Just once. Something passed between them. Not forgiveness. Not reconciliation. Just recognition.
Later. Wolfe stood in the kitchen with the bottle of Barron’s untouched scotch. He poured four glasses. Didn’t ask. Didn’t explain. He just dialed two numbers.
“Get here. Now.”
That was all. An hour later, the door opened. Royal entered first. Grinning like a man walking into a den he already knew how to burn.
