"You'renot cold," she murmurs. "Everyonecalls you theIceKingor theMachine.Butyou aren't."Agentle finger traces the rigid line of my jaw. "You'remerely careful.Youlove with such violent force that you built a fortress around it just to keep it contained."
Arusted lock inside my chest finally gives way.Thesnap offers a brutal, long-awaited release.Asteel tension cable pulled taut for six years suddenly drops slack.
Shecompletely understands.
Grippingher waist,Ishift her off my lap and stand upright.Shewatches me navigate toward the heavy workbench in the far corner of theVault.Thisstation acts as my sanctuary within the sanctuary.Mostpeople assumeImerely fix guns or roll coins in this corner.
Thebottom drawer screeches slightly asIunlock it.Insiderests a small block of stainless steel.Industrialgrade and utterly permanent.
Snatchingup the metal,Icarry it back to where she sits.
"Whatis this?" she asks, accepting the heavy cube.
"It's316L stainless steel,"Irattle off automatically. "Marinegrade and molybdenum-alloyed.Highlyresistant to corrosion and extreme pressure."
Onepale eyebrow arches upward. "Okay,BillNye.Whyare you handing me a paperweight?"
"It'sfar from a paperweight."Ireclaim the block, setting it on the desk.Pullingout my tools—calipers, bastard files, and a small jeweler's saw borrowed fromBlake'sforge—Iarrange them in a perfect row. "It'sa ring."
Asharp inhale visibly lifts her chest.
"Orit will be,"Imutter to the concrete floor. "Istarted carving it six months ago.Justtinkering.Iwanted to forge something indestructible.Aband that would outlast fragile bone."
Myfingers lift a rough, half-shaped band of steel from the tray.Dull, jagged edges still require intense filing.Thecurrent state is ugly, but the permanent potential sings through the alloy.
"Ihad no idea who it was meant for,"Iconfess, running my thumb over the burrs. "Thedimensions simply had to be mathematically perfect.Theinternal radius.Themillimeter thickness."Mygaze drops to her left hand. "Imeasured your ring finger while you were passed out yesterday, tracing the delicate bone with my calipers.Sizesix.Circumference51.9 millimeters.Ineeded the exact data to ensure the steelI’mforging for you fits so perfectly you’ll never be able to slide it off.You’rebeing fitted for a permanent cage,Mia."
Shestares blankly at the jagged piece of metal. "Youmeasured my finger whileIwas unconscious."
"Affirmative."
"Thatcrosses the line into incredibly creepy,Elias."
"Efficient,"Ishoot back.
Awet, choked laugh bursts from her throat.Moistureglosses over her pupils. "You'reforging me a ring out of industrial steel."
"Goldwarps and scratches too easily,"Iargue, my jaw tight. "Thisalloy refuses to break.Youcan slam it against a filing cabinet or a rifle stock, and the surface won't take a single dent."
Reachingout, she grazes the rough metal. "It'sabsolutely perfect."
"Thework isn't finished.Theedges require aggressive filing and internal engraving."Isnatch the ring back to shield the imperfection from her view. "Theprocess requires time."
Steppingcloser, she crowds directly into my personal space. "Wehave time."
"Loganbuzzed minutes ago."Ijerk my chin toward the thick iron barricade. "Thesiege above is over.TheFedswill return by sunrise.Theoutside world is waiting to tear this entire compound apart."
"Wehave twelve hours," she commands, her tone unyielding.
"Theaudit concluded hours ago,Mia.Keepingyou locked inside thisVaultrequires a legitimate reason."
"Theninvent one."
Herchin tilts up, presenting a fierce, direct challenge.
Staringat the massive door, the logical path lays itself out.Openingit lets my brothers inside to celebrate the victory.Handingover the data ensures theCostaempire burns to ash.
Butthe second that heavy steel unseals, she stops belonging solely to me.Sheinstantly transforms into the federal witness.TheformerCFO.Atactical problem for the club.
