Page 25

Staff moved across the main floor below us, stocking the long bar, checking tables, and preparing for the evening. Whenever Nik brought Lacey inside Xyst or Lucian brought Scarlett, security tightened without anyone making a show of it. Once the doors opened, patrons would see dancing, drinking, and privacy. We saw exits, weapons, threats, and every face that didn’t belong.

Slade had doubled the door team and posted two men near the private elevator. Rory had DarkMatter tied into the club’s security feeds, monitoring every angle. That gave me one less thing to worry about before I brought Lucian up to speed and ruined his and Scarlett’s night.

I’d dreaded the conversation, but had put it off as long as I could.

Xyst’s upstairs office sat beyond the reception desk and down a short hall, hidden from most patrons and overlooking the main floor through one-way glass. Lucian’s desk stood near the far wall, polished and orderly because my brother had always valued control. I’d never minded a little clutter. A little chaos kept a man awake, and trouble rarely arrived neatly stacked.

The conference table occupied the center of the room.

Nik sat at the head of it with a tablet in front of him and Lacey beside him. Henri Delacroix, her French DarkMatter shadow, stood behind her chair with his attention fixed on every movement near the door. Rory Lynch, Nik’s consigliere and former SAS soldier, leaned back with the relaxed posture of a man who could turn lethal before most people got both feet beneath them. Gabriel Rossi was sprawled in his chair, restless and ready for something to do, while Julian Lombardi watched from the far end, his expression blank and his eyes always scanning the room.

I remained near the window, watching the staff below because sitting was too confining for my mood.

Isabella Delgado had spent the week lodged in my thoughts. At Xyst, she’d been polished and smug, shoving legal threats into my hands and carrying herself as though she could make a man like me kneel. In her office, she’d become the woman I’d dropped onto her desk, her mouth swollen from my kiss and her eyes filled with the fear of someone who had no safe way out.

I’d gone there to threaten her, scare her off, and make certain she understood Xyst wasn’t a club she could use as a stepping-stone for whatever game Ciro Delgado was playing.

Somehow, I’d walked out thinking about a new identity, a safe house, and helping her disappear.

I still couldn’t make the two versions of her fit together.

Nik glanced up from his tablet. “Lucian’s going to want to know why no one called him.”

“Aye. And he’s going to be pissed.”

Gabriel glanced toward the monitor showing the reception area. “You planning to take the blame?”

“He’s my brother. He’ll blame me whether I take it or not.”

Rory’s mouth twitched. “Irish brothers have a delicate way of handling conflict.”

“Lucian and I have been knocking sense into each other since we were lads. I wasn’t interrupting his honeymoon over cartel bullshit. If he takes a swing later, I’ll survive.”

“How touching,” Gabriel said. “Brotherly rage.”

A smile lit up Lacey’s face. “This is why I enjoy sitting in on meetings.”

Nik rested a hand on the back of her chair. “For the operational clarity?”

“For the pre-fight entertainment. Watching grown men pretend this is a normal way to communicate is fascinating.” Her smile faded as she glanced toward the door. “But Lucian is going to be furious.”

“He should be,” I said. “Xyst was his vision a decade ago, and he’s worked his ass off ensuring its success. But I wasn’t dragging him out of his wife’s bed unless the building was on fire.”

Gabriel’s grin flashed. “And even then, it would depend on how big the fire was.”

“Where are Lucian and Scarlett?” Lacey asked.

“On their way up,” I said, having just seen them walk in below.

Which meant the peace we’d given them was almost over.

They’d earned the week. Lucian had dragged Scarlett out of her father’s clutches, shot the bastard, carried her through Madrid, gotten himself arrested, and somehow talked God into letting him marry her in the same church where he’d first tried to abduct her.

For the last seven days, none of us had knocked on their door.

That didn’t mean we’d sat still.

DarkMatter had followed Isabella Delgado through courthouses and salons, to her Water Street apartment near the Seaport, and onto Ciro Delgado’s estate without giving her or his men anything to notice. Everything we’d gathered during the week was loaded onto Nik’s tablet, waiting for Lucian.