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"What happened?" Lorenzo asks.

Declan doesn't answer him. His expression has become something I've rarely seen on his face, something older and far more personal than the fury that filled this room minutes ago.

Not fear. Recognition. And beneath it, rage.

"Declan," I say again. "What happened?"

His eyes finally meet mine. For several seconds, he seems to have forgotten there are five other people in the room. Then his fingers tighten around the phone until his knuckles whiten.

"Ghosts should stay buried."

A silence falls over the table.

Volkov's eyes narrow. "What ghost?"

Declan doesn't answer. He pushes his chair back, stands and heads for the door with enough violence in his movements to make the guards outside straighten the moment they see him.

"Declan," Lorenzo calls after him. "Where the hell are you going?"

He keeps walking. The door slams behind him. I stare at the empty chair he left behind, then turn toward Elena. Her expression tells me she's thinking the same thing I am.

Five minutes ago, I was struggling with the belief that the most dangerous possibility in this room was that one of the Crown kings had betrayed us. Now I'm almost certain.

Whatever message Declan just received rattled a man I've watched face guns, death, and war without blinking. Whatever waited on that screen wasn't business, and judging from his expression, it wasn't merely another threat.

Something from his past has just found him. And if Declan's reaction is anything to judge by, it should have stayed dead.

31

Elena

By the time we return to the penthouse, I have approximately six hundred questions and absolutely no desire to answer any of them.

Declan's abrupt departure from the Crown meeting should have sent me straight to my laptop. The message he received matters. The Irish transactions matter. The possibility that one of the five kings could be connected to OB6 matters considerably more than I would like.

Instead, I walk into Adrianos's penthouse, look at the damaged bedroom door, and decide the conspiracy can survive until morning.

Apparently, so can I.

The place has been repaired enough to function, but not enough to pretend last night didn't happen. The security panel beside the bedroom has been replaced. The blood is gone from the carpet, although the section where the attacker fell is noticeably cleaner than everything around it. Someone has temporarily repaired the door Adrianos nearly destroyed reaching me, but splintered wood still marks the frame.

I stop looking when my chest tightens.

Adrianos notices.

He notices everything about me now, which is irritating considering I used to be the observant one in this relationship.

"We can stay somewhere else tonight."

I shake my head. "No."

"Elena."

"I said no."

His expression changes in that familiar way that tells me an order is approaching.

I point at him. "Think carefully."