“I know why you’re here, Daphne. You’re his eyes. His pretty little recording device.” He shifted, his lips brushing the column of my throat, sending a traitorous jolt of arousal straight to my core. “But remember ... I’m the one who knows what you look like when you’re blind with pleasure. I’m the one who knows how you sound when you’ve forgotten every loyalty you ever had.”
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, his gaze dark and predatory. “Does Zeno know about Aruba yet? Does he know his 'loyal ward' spent fourteen nights screaming my name in a bed that cost more than most people's lives? Or should I call him and tell him myself?”
The threat hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. The “gentle” man I’d met in the Caribbean, the one who had laughed in the surf and held me under the stars, wasgone. In his place stood a rival king who was more than willing to ruin me to win his war.
I forced a breath into my lungs, refusing to let the tremble in my knees reach my voice. I leaned in closer, until my lips were an inch from his jaw.
“He would kill me, Thal,” I whispered, my voice turning lethal. “But if I go down, I’m taking the location of your offshore holdings and your favorite Caribbean hideaway with me. I’ve already ghosted your personal server. If my heart stops, the encryption on those files breaks. You want to play a war of secrets? Be careful. I’ve been trained by a master of them.”
“Then you’d better start thinking about which master you want to serve,” he growled.
His thumb grazed the line of my jaw, a touch so light it was almost a caress, yet it promised both ruin and ecstasy.
He leaned in one last time, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Run back to him, Daphne. Report my every move. But know that the next time I catch you in the dark, I won’t be this polite. Next time, I won't just hold you. I’ll take what’s mine.”
He released me abruptly. The loss of his heat left me shivering in the air-conditioned club.
He didn't say goodbye. He just stepped back, his expression turning into a mask of cold, professional indifference. I didn't let him see me tremble. I reached into my garter, feeling the cold plastic of the security card I’d stolen earlier.
It was a reminder that while Thal thought he was the only one with power in this room, I was the one who could walk through any door in the city, even the ones he thought were locked.
Two
ZENO’S WARNING
DAPHNE
I could have sliced through the tension with a knife. Sitting across from Zeno and his chief strategist, Helena, I struggled to breathe. I was sure they could hear my every thought, as ridiculous as that sounded.
The Olympus penthouse didn’t feel like home; it was a high-altitude kill box. Every surface was glass or polished stone, cold and reflective, a designer’s way of ensuring there were no shadows for a girl like me to hide in. I’d memorized the sweep of every security camera in this room, knowing the blind spots better than Zeno knew his own heartbeat.
Zeno built a fortress, that was a stage where he played God, and right now, I was the only audience member he cared about. The neon lights of the Strip bled into the room like fresh bruises, but they couldn't touch the clinical chill Zeno radiated.
I used to think the lack of color was a design choice.
Now, looking at the gray-on-gray perfection, I realized it was a warning. There was no warmth here because warmth was a weakness Zeno had long ago cut out of his chest.
The bulky, oppressive furniture felt like it was closing in on me, pinning me to my chair before the interrogation even began.
The two of them peered at me intimidatingly, both scrutinizing me closely. Zeno’s sharp gaze seemed to see right through me. I looked away, unable to bear the suspicion flickering in his dark eyes. I was terrified he’d see my true emotions, despite my best efforts to stay neutral.
It was crucial that he believed my loyalty was with him.
“So, you saw Thal at the tournament?” he asked.
I forced my hands to stay still in my lap, resisting the urge to claw at my dress. I kept my voice low and respectful, the voice of the perfect ward he’d spent years training.
“I did. He was at the center table, exactly where you expected him to be. He didn’t seem to notice me at first.”
Helena watched me, her eyes narrowed as if searching for a flicker of a lie, but I didn't give her one. I couldn't afford a single crack in my mask. Snapping at Zeno was a luxury I didn't have, surviving him was my only priority.
“Did you gather any other information?”
I tried to keep my voice even, though my heart was a frantic drum against my ribs. “Zeno, I went to the tournament. He was there. We barely spoke. I was an observer, just like you asked.”
Zeno didn’t answer. Instead, he stood slowly, his presence expanding to fill the room until the air felt thin. He walked around the mahogany desk with the slow, deliberate grace of a man who had never lost a fight. He stopped inches away from me, invading my personal space until I was forced to look up at him.
He didn't look at my face. He looked at the hollow of my throat.
