The familiar knot of anxiety tightens in my chest. William Pike wields power like a scalpel, precise and merciless. He’s destroyed careers and lives for far less than what we’ve done to his precious reputation. How much farther will he go to punish us?
But as I watch Dom’s face softened in rare vulnerability, feel Ryder’s protective embrace, and see Liam’s watchful eyes catching mine, something steels inside me. My father’s greatest weapon has always been my fear—my belief that I needed his approval, his protection, his definition of who I am.
I don’t need any of it anymore. I have something real now.
I think of the evidence Martha collected, the truth waiting to be revealed. I think of these three men who saw the real me beneath the masks we all wore—not just the mayor’s perfect daughter, but the complicated, flawed woman capable of darkness and light.
My father can threaten our livelihoods, our reputations, even our safety. But he can’t touch what we’ve built between us. This strange, beautiful connection that started as revenge but transformed into something none of us expected.
I won’t let him take this from me. Not this time. Not ever again.
46
DOM
The email from IT security arrives at three in the morning. My phone’s vibration drags me from sleep, the blue light harsh in the darkness. Beside me, Cora shifts but doesn’t wake. Ryder’s arm is thrown across her waist, and Liam’s steady breathing comes from her other side.
I slip from bed, padding silently to the kitchen before opening the message.
Unauthorized access detected: J. Martinez accessing private server files. Pattern indicates systematic extraction. Files compromised include: Harbor Project financials, personal calendar, residential security protocols.
Julia Martinez. My executive assistant for seven years.
The betrayal slices through me, cold and sharp. Julia has access to everything—project details, security codes, the penthouse layout. She knows our routines, our vulnerabilities. She’s met Cora, shared drinks with Ryder, coordinated with Liam’s office.
My hands curl into fists on the countertop. “Hijo de puta,” I mutter, the Spanish slipping out in my anger.
I dial my head of security. “Andrew, I need you at the office in thirty minutes. And call Martinez’s building manager. I wanther movements tracked, her access cards deactivated, and her devices locked immediately.”
“Yes, sir. Should I alert the police?”
“Not yet.” I keep my voice controlled, ice forming around the rage. “I want to know who she’s working for first.”
But I already know. William Pike has been methodically attacking my projects since the Hunt. This is simply his latest move—infiltrating my inner circle.
I pull up the security footage from my office. Julia, working late after everyone left, downloading files onto a drive tucked inside her blouse.
I forward the files to Andrew with instructions to dig deeper. Then I pour myself a scotch, my mind calculating the damage. The Harbor Project is vulnerable, but Cora’s investment is protected through separate channels. More concerning are our home security protocols. If Pike knows the layout of the penthouse, our routines...
“Dom?” Cora stands in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and beautiful. “Everything okay?”
I don’t answer immediately, wrestling with how much to tell her. She’s already dealing with enough regarding her father.
“Business emergency,” I say finally, setting down my glass. “Go back to bed,querida.”
Her eyes narrow. She’s learned to see through my deflections. “Which kind of emergency makes you curse in Spanish at three in the morning?”
I set my glass down harder than intended. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
My voice turns to ice—the tone I use in boardrooms when someone has displeased me. The warmth I reserve for Cora, Ryder, and Liam retreats behind the walls I’ve spent decades building.
“Julia has been feeding information to your father. Security protocols, financial data, our home layout.”
Cora’s face pales. “Dom, I?—”
“I’ll take care of it,” I cut her off, pulling up the security system on my tablet. “Go back to bed, Cora. This doesn’t concern you.”
A lie. It concerns all of us. But this is what I do—isolate the threat, neutralize it, protect what’s mine. Alone.
