"I'm not," I lie.
He murmurs, "Liar," then pulls back and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. His voice turns to annoyance. "I'm going to get some sleep for an hour before job two starts. See you later."
"Why don't you sleep here?" I ask.
"My computers are at my place, remember?"
"Oh. Yeah." Guilt eats me for not staying at his place.
He wiggles his eyebrows. "But I'm glad I got to see you for ten minutes."
A rush surges through my chest so abruptly it disrupts my breathing. It's traitorous and impossible to control. Every instinct I've honed to survive men who wield power with their shadows tells me to shut it down, to reinforce the walls I've spent years cementing. But his words slip past everything I've built, sinking into places I swore no one would ever reach.
But the truth is undeniable. Brax tilts my entire world with such little effort. And I hate how easily he steals the composure I pretend is unshakeable.
"Me too." I kiss him again.
This time, he doesn't pull back until I'm out of breath. He finally pats my ass and leaves. So the space between us grows. Not because the bond snapped but because schedules are weapons, too. And part of me wonders if Liam knew his punishment would also hurt me.
Brax isn't gone long before my phone lights up on the counter. I pick it up and read the text.
Unknown Number: Royal Council masked meeting. Next Wednesday. 9 p.m. Attendance mandatory. No exceptions. Come to impress.
My stomach knots. It's the first meeting since Brax and I earned our seats, and it overlaps with the O'Malley graveyard shift.
My stomach flips.
I need to get Sean and Brax excused.
Are they intentionally setting a trap?
I grab my coat, leave my place, and get into the SUV. I text Kirill.
Me: You home?
Kirill: Yes.
Me: Need to talk. I'm on my way over.
Vito eyes me in the rearview mirror.
I glare at him. "Need something, Vito?"
He asks, "How are things going, Ms. Abruzzo?"
"It's Mrs. O'Malley, remember?" I reprimand for at least the tenth time.
His eyes narrow. "Right. Mrs. O'Malley."
I don't answer, roll the divider window up, and add it to my list for Kirill.
The rest of the ride is quiet. I quickly get through Kirill's building and into his penthouse. He's standing by his window when I walk in, posture rigid, scar stark in the city glow. He turns slowly. "You look irritated."
"Why is Vito still my driver?" I fume.
"The request has been made. The Royal Council vote will take place at the next meeting. You will get a new driver," he assures.
"If I don't die in the meantime," I mutter.
