Page 2 of Take Me Darkly

I should have seen it coming—should have anticipated that whoever was after her wouldn’t give up easily. And I should have protected both women instead of just the one I couldn’t live without.

“There’s something else,” Zeke continued, his tone dropping an octave. “Veronica Black, the publicist that Alexander Stone referred to us, called. The press frenzy isn’t burning out—it’s metastasizing. She pulled in one of the firm’s partners at Quinn & Wilkshire to help. Now both she and Devon Wilkshire are working on the problem. The press isn’t just covering what happened in Italy—they’re using Serena to get info on you. Every outlet is trying to crack the mystery of the billionaire enigma who’s managed to stay out of the spotlight for years.”

“How?”

“They’ve latched onto her like she’s the key to understanding who you are. Someone’s feeding them information that wasn’t in any official reports—the ruby necklace you bought her, her father’s research, intimate details about your relationship with her. This isn’t just opportunistic journalism, Anton. They’re building a profile on you through her, and someone wants that story out there.” He paused, and I could hear the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “If they dig deep enough, if the wrong people start asking the right questions about your past...”

He didn’t need to finish. We both knew what secrets lay buried in the foundation of my empire—secrets that could destroy everything.

I turned in my chair to stare out one of the clear glass windows in my office. My jaw clenched so hard, I heard my teeth grind. From here, I could see the top of Cornerstone Tower, the building where I’d maintained my respectable business office—the face I showed the world while running Club O from the shadows. Every instinct I’d honed over the years was screaming that this was coordinated and deliberate. Whoever had tried to kill Serena wasn’t done with her. They were just changing tactics.

If the media attention brought the wrong kind of scrutiny, or if investigators started digging into my past and found the truth about Jerry Arnold…

No.

I shook my head, slamming the door shut on those memories. That part of my life had to remain in its grave. Too many lives—including Serena’s—relied on my absolute control.

“What’s our immediate security status?” I demanded.

“Tight as it gets. The building is locked down, every entrance monitored, every employee background-checked twice. No one gets in without my say-so, and even then, they’re watched. I’ve paused the application process, halting all new memberships. But boss…” He paused, seeming to weigh his words. “We can’t keep Serena locked up here forever. She’s going to want answers eventually.”

I closed my eyes, fighting the fierce, possessive knot in my chest. He was right. Serena wasn’t a porcelain doll to be placed on a shelf. She was a woman of intellect, passion, and fire. She would want to know who murdered her mother, who hunted her, and why. The terrifying reality was that I wasn’t sure I could shield her from the truth any more than I had shielded her from that bullet.

“How is she?” Zeke asked quietly.

The question hit me right in the sternum, sharp and unyielding.

“Broken,” I said simply, scrubbing a hand over my face as my icy facade cracked. “She’s grieving. She’s furious. She blames herself for being away, and she blames me for trapping her here. She’s barely eating. She doesn’t sleep. I don’t know how to help her.”

“Maybe you start by being honest with her.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that you’re in love with her.”

His words hung in the air thick like a verdict.

I wanted to deny it, to fall back on the practiced distance I’d maintained my entire adult life. But sitting in the silence of my sanctuary—built from my own blood, sweat, and sin—I knew the truth. Serena Martinelli had breached every defense I possessed. She owned me, body and soul. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

I considered how angry she’d been at me in recent days. Every time we spoke, the pain in her voice was like a physical blow. I wanted to go to her, to pull her into my arms and promise that everything would be okay. But her grief and anger were too strong to accept my comfort.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” I said finally. “What matters is keeping her alive.”

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.”

Before I could fire back, a faint sound drifted through the heavy oak door connecting the office to the living area. Soft, barefoot footsteps against hardwood. The subtle creak of a floorboard.

Serena was awake.

“I have to go,” I murmured, my heart instantly kicking up a notch, provoked by something wild and dark. Every encounter with her felt like walking through a minefield—one wrong word, one careless gesture, and I could shatter what little trust remained between us. “Keep digging. I want to know who’s behind this and how deep it goes. And Zeke?”

“Yeah?”

“Do whatever it takes. I don’t care about the cost or the risks. I won’t lose her.”

I ended the call, set the phone on the desk, and turned toward the door, preparing to face my sweet, beautiful ruin.

Chapter Two