By the time I made it home, my skin still buzzed with leftover adrenaline.
From him.
From them.
From the war I hadn't meant to start between the Hart brothers.
I slammed the door behind me, kicked off my heels, and collapsed onto the couch, heart still galloping in my chest.
"You look like you made a deal with the devil."
That voice — sharp, amused, and far too observant — came from the kitchen. Nia Moreno, dressed in bike shorts and a silk robe, leaned against the fridge with a glass of wine in one hand and a smirk in the other.
"He's not the devil," I muttered.
"So it is a man." She sauntered over and dropped next to me, tucking her legs under her. "Spill it, sugar. The world is dying to know who's got you coming home like you just got out of a psychological thriller-slash-porn scene."
I groaned and buried my face in a pillow.
"Was it Finn?" she teased. "Because he's got that white knight energy. All broody spreadsheets and tight jawlines. But if you tell me it was his brother…" She gave a mock gasp. "The other Hart? The one with all the bite and none of the conscience?"
I peeked over the pillow. "How do you even know about them?"
"Girl. Your new job is basically billionaire gossip porn for LinkedIn. Also"—she raised her wine—"Callie Googled them. Extensively."
Right on cue, Callie Hwang stepped into the room holding a steaming cup of chamomile tea, hair pulled into a sleepy topknot, glasses perched low on her nose.
"I did," she said simply, settling into the armchair with the elegance of someone who rarely spoke unless it mattered. "Knox Hart has a reputation. Lawsuits, rumors, models who cry about him and still beg for more. Finn's the better one. The safer one."
"I'm not dating either of them," I said quickly.
"Didn't say you were," Callie replied, raising a brow. "But something happened."
I hesitated. My fingers gripped the throw blanket tighter.
"It's Knox," I admitted softly. "There's something about him… It's like he sees everything I try to hide. And he doesn't blink. He doesn't back off."
Nia whistled low. "Sounds like a walking red flag in a tailored suit. Delicious."
"It's not delicious," I snapped. "It's terrifying. And somehow… addictive."
Callie leaned forward. "Kaia. He's your boss's brother. You're new. If this goes bad—"
"It is bad." I laughed, but it came out bitter. "He keeps showing up everywhere. Watching me. Saying things that make my skin crawl—in a way I wish it didn't."
Nia grinned. "Oh no. You like the crawling."
I buried my face again and groaned. "Why do I even tell you things?"
"Because we're the only ones who'll drag your half-dead body out of a billionaire sex scandal and still bring snacks," Nia quipped. "Speaking of… I bought churros."
Callie stood. "She needs real food. And probably a new job."
"Or a vibrator," Nia added.
Callie paused. "…Also valid."
I let them argue all the way into the kitchen as I sank deeper into the couch. The chaos of their voices grounded me, reminded me that I was still me. Just Kaia. Not some pawn in a pissing contest between two dangerously beautiful men.
I needed this.
This normalcy.
This noise.
Because the silence Knox left behind was unbearable.
Later that night, after Callie had gone to bed and Nia was half-passed out watching a cooking show she didn't care about, I slipped into my room and closed the door.
I sat on my bed and checked my phone.
No messages.
But I opened the Notes app anyway.
And typed.
Knox.
You look at me like I'm a sin you can't wait to confess.
But I'm not your penance.
I'm your damnation.
I stared at the words, breath shallow.
Then I deleted them.
Because nothing good came from putting his name into anything that permanent.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Callie cursing softly at her laptop.
I padded into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes. "What's wrong?"
She pointed at the screen. "Knox Hart's face. Again."
Sure enough, there he was—gracing the home page of some business gossip blog, half a smirk on his face and a woman clinging to his arm. The headline read:
THE DARK HART RETURNS: KNOX'S NIGHT OUT WITH A NEW MYSTERY BLONDE
I swallowed hard.
"Tell me that doesn't bother you," Callie said quietly.
I didn't answer.
Because it did.
It shouldn't have. I didn't own him. I didn't even like him.
But it still felt like being kicked in the chest.
And the worst part?
I already knew she wasn't the last.