Savannah stared out the tinted SUV window, watching the city blur into grey motion. Her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh, nerves winding tighter with every passing block. Lucian West. A ghost in the world of corporate espionage. If anyone knew where her mother was or who had her it was him.
And they were heading straight into his lair.
"You're quiet," Julian said, glancing at her from the driver's seat. He'd insisted on driving himself, and now, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the gearshift, he looked maddeningly calm.
"I'm thinking," she said.
"Dangerous habit."
She shot him a sideways look. "Says the man who married me after three near-death experiences and two arguments in a burning building."
Julian smirked. "You make it sound like I didn't plan it."
"You didn't."
"Didn't I?" He turned smoothly onto a side street, jaw ticking slightly. "I knew what you were the minute you walked into my boardroom. And I knew what you'd become to me the moment I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Savannah blinked. "That sounds a lot like a confession."
"Maybe it is."
"You're getting sentimental on me, Thorne."
He reached over and brushed his fingers gently along her hand. "Don't get used to it. I'm still cold and emotionally unavailable most days."
"Charming," she said dryly, but her fingers didn't pull away. Instead, they curled around his.
Julian's voice dropped. "You scared me, Savannah."
She looked at him, brows drawing together.
"That night," he said. "The fire. The smoke. The thought of losing you before I even had the chance to… explain everything. It gutted me."
She swallowed hard. "You've never said that."
"I don't say things I don't mean."
"And you meant that?"
His eyes found hers. "Every word."
Silence bloomed between them. Not awkward. Just full. Heavy with everything they hadn't said.
Then Savannah smirked. "You do realize you're being disgustingly romantic on our way to meet a black-market information dealer?"
Julian laughed low and rough and real. "I'm multi-talented."
An Hour Later – Midtown Underground
The "lobby" of Lucian West's base of operations was beneath a decommissioned art gallery. Everything smelled like old stone and fresh paint. A metal elevator led down to a private level, where only those with access codes could enter.
Julian keyed in a sequence so fast Savannah couldn't catch it.
"You've been here before?" she asked.
"Once. Long ago. I left with three broken ribs and a renewed sense of caution."
"Sounds promising."
The elevator doors opened with a hiss. Inside, the floor was polished obsidian, and the walls were lined with mirrors—fractured ones, angled just enough to make it feel like someone was always watching.
Lucian West stood in the center.
Tall. Slim. Dressed in black from collar to boots, with a glint of silver at his throat. His hair was salt-and-pepper, slicked back, and his smile was all teeth and no warmth.
"Mr. Thorne," he said smoothly. "And… the wife. What an unexpected pleasure."
Julian stepped in front of Savannah just slightly—protective instinct in motion. "We're not here for games, Lucian."
"Shame. I'm rather fond of them." His eyes landed on Savannah. "You're the journalist. The Hale girl. I've heard… rumors."
"I want facts," she said, stepping forward. "Where is my mother?"
Lucian cocked his head. "Straight to the point. I like that."
"I'm not in the mood to play nice."
"Pity." He walked in a slow circle around them. "Your mother is alive. But where she is… that's a price you haven't earned yet."
Julian's jaw clenched. "Name it."
Lucian turned to him with a thin smile. "I want leverage. Something that matters to you more than your company. More than control."
Savannah stepped between them. "You already have it."
Lucian arched a brow. "Do I?"
She didn't flinch. "Me."
Julian growled low under his breath, but Savannah stood firm.
Lucian chuckled. "I see why he married you."
"Tell me where she is," Savannah said, voice like steel.
Lucian looked at her for a long moment, then turned back to Julian. "She's braver than you."
"She's better than me," Julian said without hesitation.
Something flickered in Lucian's eyes. "There's a safehouse in the Blue Ridge Mountains. A woman matching Elena Hale's description was spotted leaving it six weeks ago. With Margot Hale. They were traveling under aliases. I can give you the coordinates, but getting there won't be easy."
"Why?" Savannah asked.
"Because someone else is after them too." Lucian's smile disappeared. "And they're already closing in."
That Night – Back at the Safehouse
The moment the door shut behind them, Savannah let out a shaky breath. "Do you think he was telling the truth?"
"Yes," Julian said, shrugging off his coat. "Lucian lies when it profits him. But this… this felt like a warning."
She sat on the couch, exhausted. "So my mother and my aunt are alive. And running."
Julian poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. "And you're not alone."
Savannah looked up, heat flickering in her chest. "No, I guess I'm not."
Julian sat beside her. Close, but not touching. "You were incredible today. Fierce. Terrifying. Beautiful."
She gave a soft laugh. "Careful. I might get used to compliments from you."
He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. "You should. You deserve them."
Their eyes met.
Savannah leaned in slightly. "Julian…"
He stilled.
"I'm scared."
"I know."
"But I want this. Whatever this is between us. I want it real."
Julian's voice was rough when he replied. "Then it's real."
And this time, when he kissed her it wasn't fire or desperation.
It was promise.
The kiss lingered not fiery, not rushed, but steady. Grounding. Like they both needed to remember that despite the chaos closing in, they were still here. Still real.
Savannah's hand found the side of Julian's neck, her thumb grazing the strong line of his jaw. He didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned closer.
When they broke apart, neither moved.
"You're full of contradictions, you know," she whispered, her lips still brushing his. "You plan like a tactician and kiss like a man who doesn't care if the world burns."
Julian gave a low, breathless laugh. "Maybe because I've been burning since the moment you stepped into my life."
The words weren't smooth or practiced they were ragged. Honest. Savannah felt her defenses falter again, a little more than last time.
"I don't know what to do with you," she admitted, forehead resting lightly against his. "Half the time, I want to strangle you. The other half, I want to figure out what's behind those damn walls."
"You're already doing it," he said quietly. "And it terrifies me."
Silence fell again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was… intimate.
Then Julian stood and reached for her hand. "Come with me."
She raised a brow. "To where? Secret passage number three?"
He chuckled, then pulled her gently to her feet. "To bed."
Her brow arched higher. "Wow, straight to it now, are we?"
Julian gave her that rare, crooked smile—the one he only seemed to show when no one else was around. "To sleep, Hale. Not everything is seduction."
"Disappointing," she muttered.
Julian's eyes sparked, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he led her down the hallway to the main bedroom. It wasn't overly decorated—sleek, minimal, dark tones—but there was something warm about the soft lighting and the weight of silence between them.
"Stay," he said as they stepped inside.
She turned to face him. "You sure?"
"You don't have to do anything. I just…" His voice dipped. "I sleep better when you're here."
That confession nearly undid her.
She climbed into the bed without another word. Julian followed, lying beside her but keeping a respectful distance. For a few minutes, neither spoke.
Then Savannah rolled onto her side, resting a hand lightly on his chest. "You know what scares me more than anything?"
Julian turned his head, eyes meeting hers in the dim light. "What?"
"That the next step—the one that leads us to my mother—might be the one that destroys everything."
Julian reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Then we take that step together."
She stared at him for a long moment. "If I ever find out you lied to me—about anything else—I won't just walk away. I'll burn every piece of this down. Including you."
His expression didn't flinch. "Then I guess I'll have to make damn sure you don't have a reason to."
Savannah gave a tired, humorless smile. "You better. Because I'm all in now, Julian. And I don't know if that's bravery… or stupidity."
"Maybe it's both," he said, tugging her hand to his lips. "But I've never wanted anything more than I want you to stay."
Morning – The Calm Before the Storm
Sunlight filtered in through the windows as Savannah stirred. For the first time in days, she didn't wake to fear—or fire. Julian's arm was draped loosely around her waist, his breathing steady and deep beside her.
She let herself sink into the warmth for a moment longer. Just this. Just them.
But reality always came knocking.
By the time they were both up, dressed, and armed with coffee, Savannah stood at the dining table reviewing Lucian's coordinates. The file he'd handed over was cryptic, the trail fragmented—but it was enough.
"The Blue Ridge safehouse isn't on any official grid," Julian said, pointing to a faint outline on the map. "But I know someone in Virginia who might be able to get us in. Quietly."
Savannah tapped the file. "Lucian said someone else was closing in. You think he meant Damien?"
"I'd bet my entire boardroom on it." Julian's jaw tightened. "If he gets there first, there may not be anything left of your mother to find."
Savannah looked up. "Then we get there first."
Julian nodded. "Wheels up in four hours. Jet is prepped. Pack light. Cold weather gear, nothing that draws attention."
Savannah turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.
"Oh—and Savannah?"
She glanced back.
"You still owe me a proper honeymoon."
She smirked. "Survive this mission, Thorne, and maybe I'll take you somewhere where people aren't trying to kill us."
"Promises, promises," he murmured as she disappeared down the hallway.