I keep my face carefully blank as I sit, channeling every lesson my mom had taught me about poise under pressure. Dom takes thechair beside me, his posture rigid, playing the part of the disinterested lover perfectly.
Kian glides behind his desk with the grace of something evolved to kill. His hand closes around an ornate dagger. “Well, isn’t this cozy,” he purrs, surveying the tableau we’ve arranged. “A proper family breakfast—minus the affection, the trust, and, of course,” the dagger flicks between us, “the love.”
He turns to the crystal decanters. “Speaking of breakfast, I trust you both slept well? Separately, I assume, given the spectacle of tempers and revelations on display last night.” He pours three fingers of whiskey, each stream refracting amber through the glass.
Dom doesn’t miss a beat. “I slept fine at The Den,” he drawls, lips curving into something feral. “Amazing how much better the company is when you’re surrounded by people who actually know how to have fun.”
“How nice for you,” I cut in, ice crystallizing each word. “I got some real sleep for once. My bed was heavenly without your ceaseless monologues. ‘Aria, think of the family. Aria, this is bigger than both of us.’” I mimic his voice. “The silence was orgasmic.”
“Glad someone was satisfied,” Dom snaps, his tone soaked in fabricated spite. “Though I hardly noticed your absence between the drinks and the . . . distractions.”
“Please, you probably brooded at the bar until dawn, spreading your misery like a contagion. It’s practically your brand.”
“Oh, this is exquisite!” Kian’s laugh ripples through the room, his eyes dancing between us with predatory delight. “The ice queen and her beautifully tortured prince. Though I must say, Aria sweetheart, you do cut straight to the heart, don’t you?”
He reclines with theatrical satisfaction, dagger twirling in his hand as if it might whisper secrets if spun fast enough. “And your impression—gods, the whimpering, the desperation. Perfect pitch.” His gaze slices toward Dom. “You see, this is why I insisted she’s a Blackwood through and through. That refinement, that cruelty dressed in velvet, Aria was born for it.”
He nudges our untouched glasses forward. “But let’s not dwell on last night’s dramatics. Octavia’s already phoned three wedding planners. Hopeful creature, my wife. She believes couples who war with the most passion often forge the fiercest flames. Watching you two ignite, I’d say the theory holds merit.”
“There won’t be a wedding,” Dom and I snap in unison.
We turn to glare at each other, and Kian’s grin splits wider.
“Adorable.” His eyes dance as he takes a leisurely sip. “Even your protests are in harmony. Tell me, how long did you rehearse that particular duet? The synchronicity was charming.”
I shift, angling my body further from Dom as if his proximity might burn me. “I didn’t come here to be mocked.”
“No? Then enlighten me. Because I doubt you came for the pleasure of my son’s company, considering how desperately you’re pretending he doesn’t exist.” Kian leans forward, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “Though you might want to curb those stolen glances. Rather undermines the illusion.”
Dom’s knuckles pale against the armrest. “If you’re done entertaining yourself—”
“Oh, I’m never finished.” Kian lifts his glass in mock salute. “Self-indulgence is my favorite vice. But if you insist, shall we discuss the actual reason you’re both here? Or would you prefer to continue this fascinating charade of mutual loathing?” His smile sharpens. “Though if you’re trying to sell me a rift, you’ll need stronger material. Dom, you’re practically vibrating with the urge to touch her. And Aria . . .” his tongue clicks, a wicked sound in the quiet, “the way your shoulders tense every time I look at him? Transparent.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dom growls. “The only thing I’m vibrating with is irritation at being dragged here at dawn.”
“And I’m not protecting anyone,” I say, letting venom thread through my voice even as my pulse slams against my ribs. “I just prefer not to stare directly at disappointment. It’s bad for the nerves.”
Kian’s amusement evaporates and the dagger in his hand stops its hypnotic dance. “Enough.” The word cuts through the air. “I may have infinite patience for games, children, but I despise having my intelligence insulted.”
“If you’re so perceptive,” I say, holding onto the crumbling edge of our script, “then why call us here at all? If this is about the contract, don’t bother. I’m not signing myself into this bloodstained dynasty just because your family enjoys playing marriage roulette.”
Kian sighs, all mock pity and glinting teeth. “Oh, sweetheart. Who ever said anything about giving you a choice?”
“I always have a choice,” I snap, but my voice frays beneath the gravity of his certainty.
“Ah, but do you?” Kian’s tone turns almost gentle. He circles behind my chair. “Consider what I’m offering, Aria. Protection. Influence. Answers.” His fingers ghost over my shoulder, so light I almost doubt it’s real. “The truth about your parents. About their work. About why Alexander cares so deeply about you and your sister.”
The contract materializes in his hands with a flick of his wrist. “Everything you’ve been chasing,” he murmurs, dropping it into my lap. “Everything you need to keep Luna safe, to understand what your parents died defending, what they were willing to destroy themselves for.” His lips brush my ear. “All for the simple price of becoming family.”
I don’t touch the contract. “No thanks.”
“No?” His exhale is soft, almost amused. “And I had such high hopes. You always struck me as the clever one.” He prowls back to his desk with theatrical disappointment, fingers drumming the surface. “But I’m nothing if not generous. I’m willing to negotiate. Adjust a few clauses. Perhaps even rework certain bindings for parties tangential to the agreement.”
My heartbeat lurches, glance sliding to Dom. His head shakes, barely perceptible, but his stare brands me with a warning.
“Anything I want?” The words escape before I can swallow them.
“Within reason,” Kian purrs, victory already dancing in his eyes.
