Her bare feet pad across white marble, her toes and fingers painted the same blue as her hair.Being this close to her, watching her without a camera lens, fucks with my concentration.
The braid is slowly coming loose.A strand slips free, then another.My fingers twitch to fix it for her.I was good at that once.
I pry my gaze away before she realizes how fucking hungry I am for her.
The domestic scents of citrus polish and bleach ride the air.Beneath it lurks the undertow of violence, metallic and faint, the coppered shadow of what happens when debts are collected, and mercy isn’t on the menu.
I track the cameras in the ceilings, the motion sensors out of range, and the armed men positioned in every direction.This place is a machine, built to keep danger outside and control inside, while tucking its teeth behind a smile.
She glances back at me, braid shifting and unraveling, the blue strands catching the light.
How many times have I imagined locking her inside a fortress like this and making her stand in front of floor-to-ceiling glass to watch the world shrink into safety?The thought surfaces with the ache of possibility.
She would be protected here the way the inner circle protects its own, guarded around the clock, and folded into the family.
But she would never be allowed to leave this life.
A marble cage.
That’s precisely why I can’t make it hers.
“This is us.”She pauses at the entrance of a private suite and leans into the retinal scanner.
I need to break into that device and change the security so that only the three of us can enter.But it can wait.
Dove comes first.
The double doors swing open, and I follow her into a massive space with a bedroom and en suite bathroom at one end and a sitting room and kitchenette at the other.Splashes of blue and gold textiles break up the monotony of white marble.
The bed dominates my field of view, wide enough for three bodies without negotiation, dressed in layered linens that look too expensive to touch.
I don’t admire it.I clear it.
My eyes go straight to corners, ceilings, and shadows, looking for places to hide electronics.No visible cameras.No obvious recording devices.Nothing jumps out on a first pass.
The balcony doors open to a citrus grove and the rainforest beyond it.
In the walk-in closet, Wolf’s luggage lines up along the wall, ready to fill shelves and drawers.My single bag sits among the others.
I know Wolf packed an entire closet for me.And for her.Clothes chosen with intention and the assumption of time.Not days.Not weeks.
A while.
Maybe forever.
I cross the suite in long strides, opening doors and testing echoes.The bathroom is outrageous.My largest apartment would’ve fit into one corner of it.
This is more space than I would ever need.More luxury than I could ever give her.
I don’t have a life outside of protecting Dove.I’ve never considered marriage, children, or settling down with someone else.I wouldn’t know how to hold those things without breaking them.
Maybe that’s why no one has ever loved me.Not the way my little bird did all those years ago.
And now there’s Wolf.And the possibility of Dove choosing me again.Maybe this isn’t love by anyone else’s definition, but it feels like it is.It frightens me as much as it thrills me, making my head spin and knocking my balance off center.
“I didn’t request this.”I pause at the foot of the bed, staring at the promise of it.“There were no discussions about sleeping arrangements.”
“I know.”She sits on the corner of the mattress.“Matias told me how it would be.”
