Let them follow.
Let them face Kiki and Aeto. Let them see what genuine power looks like.
The Founders didn’t know it yet—but their days were numbered.
And if Nikos and Kiki didn’t destroy them—he would.
Seventeen
Kiki descended the wooden staircase slowly, one hand trailing the smooth banister. The soft creak of the steps beneath her bare feet sounded louder than usual—probably because her pulse was tapping out a rapid rhythm in her ears.
She could hear voices now. Low, masculine. Confident. Familiar with each other. Some were laughing, others tossing out casual greetings, but every one of them carried the weight of trust and something else—admiration.
Nikos’s voice drifted above the others. Calm. Steady. The center of gravity in the room.
She exhaled and paused halfway down the steps, her fingers tightening around the banister.
Why am I nervous?
It wasn’t fear. Not the kind she’d known for so long. Not the type that twisted deep in her gut when she was hunted, or worse—when she was used.
No, this was different.
This was the fear of being seen.
She had never cared before—whether people liked her, hated her, or didn’t notice her at all. There was a time when blending into the background had been a skill, a necessity.
But that was before Nikos.
Before the quiet way he looked at her like she was something precious.
Before the strength of his arms around her made her feel not just wanted, but safe.
Before she realized she was falling for someone who made her laugh, who challenged her, who saw her and didn’t flinch.
Now… she cared.
Not because she needed anyone’s approval—but because she didn’t want to be the reason Nikos had to choose between her and the people who meant something to him.
She continued down the stairs. Once she reached the next to the last step, she smoothed her hands over her thighs before lifting them to adjust the soft navy hoodie she’d brought. The fabric held his scent—clean, woodsy, warm—from where he had held her earlier. The scent calmed her more than she expected.
From the base of the stairs, the living room came into view.
Angel’s cabin was a study in rustic elegance—polished cedar beams crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling, catching the early afternoon sun filtering through a massive wall of glass that overlooked the shimmering lake. A stone fireplace anchored the room, framed by thick leather couches and an overstuffed reading chair near a bookshelf that looked like it hadn’t been touched in months.
The open layout gave her a perfect view of the front door just as it opened.
A cluster of men walked in—all of them tall, broad, dangerous.They didn’t just talk about war—they’d lived it from the equipment they were carrying with confidence.
Her gaze swept across them with instinctive precision. One carried a military duffle, his shirt stretched tight across his chest and shoulders under his dark brown jacket.
Another had close-cropped blond hair and a serious expression, though his eyes twinkled with mischief when he spotted her. Her lips twitched when he wiggled his eyebrows.
A third was talking into a comms device already, his head swiveling like he’d mentally mapped every point of entry and attack within the first five seconds of arrival.
But it wasn’t until her gaze landed on Nikos that her breath caught and a wave of desire struck her. Memories of him getting out of the shower earlier, and what followed, had her flushing a delicate rose.
Damn! Now that I know what’s under the clothes, keeping them on him is going to be the real challenge,she thought with wry amusement.
