The wind off the harbor bit into Selene's cheeks, carrying the brine of the water and the low creak of shifting dock lines. Kieran's eyes were fixed on her as if Alexander didn't exist two points of obsidian pinning her in place.
"Answer me," he said, his voice quiet enough to be intimate, deadly enough to be a blade's whisper.
Selene's throat was tight, her mind racing. She'd been cornered in negotiations before, but this was different. This wasn't a boardroom where the rules were written in contracts and fine print. This was a man whose rules shifted with his mood, and whose moods could be lethal.
"I came for air," she said finally.
Kieran's head tilted slightly, as if she'd told him the moon was made of glass. "Aria? At midnight. At the farthest pier in the city. With him." His gaze slid toward Alexander with a slow, assessing burn.
Alexander didn't flinch. "You're losing your touch, Wolfe. You used to know what your enemies were doing before they breathed the thought."
Kieran stepped forward, his presence like a sudden drop in temperature. "And you've forgotten the first rule of survival, Grayson. Wolves don't share prey."
Selene moved before either could close the distance between them. "Enough." The word cracked the air, surprising even herself. "If you want to fight, do it somewhere else."
Kieran's gaze snapped back to her. "This is somewhere else, Selene. You came to him at night and in secret. You put yourself in the middle of my war without permission."
Her chest tightened. "I'm not your possession."
His eyes darkened. "No. You're my wife. And in my world, that means you're the most valuable and vulnerable piece on the board."
Alexander's voice slid in, smooth and cutting. "Funny how you talk about protecting her when you're the one who bought the bullet aimed at her family."
Selene's breath caught. Kieran's jaw went still.
Alexander took a deliberate step forward, his voice low. "Tell her, Wolfe. Tell her where you really got that video."
The silence stretched. Selene's heart pounded in her ears.
Kieran's gaze never left hers as he said, "From a man who will kill us all if he doesn't get what he wants."
Her pulse stumbled. "Who?"
"That," Kieran said, "is why you shouldn't be here." His hand closed gently but unyieldingly around her wrist. "We're leaving."
Alexander's hand twitched toward his pocket. "You walk away, Hart, and you'll never know who's pulling his strings."
Kieran's body stilled, lethal, coiled. "You take one more step toward her, and I'll make sure no one finds you before the tide takes you."
It wasn't a threat. It was a fact.
The sound of approaching boots echoed faintly from deeper in the dockyard. Both men's eyes flicked toward the shadows at the same time. Kieran didn't wait, he pulled Selene toward the black sedan idling near the pier's entrance.
She twisted in his grip. "Who's coming?"
"Not the kind of people you want to meet," he said.
She tried to glance back, but Kieran was faster. The sedan door opened, and in one swift movement, he had her inside, the locks clicking down as he rounded to the driver's side.
No driver. Just him.
The car pulled away in silence, the city lights blurring past. Selene kept her eyes on the passing streets, forcing her voice steady. "You're not going to tell me who they were."
"No."
"Or why Alexander was so certain you didn't make that video."
"No."
The sharp click of her seatbelt release cut the air. "Then maybe I should get out."
Kieran's hand shot across the console, fingers gripping her thigh not harsh, but firm enough to make her still. "You get out now, bella, and the next time I see you, it will be at your father's sentencing."
Her nails dug into her palms. "So it's blackmail, all over again."
"No." His tone softened, which somehow made it worse. "It's survival."
When they reached the penthouse, the atmosphere was different. The warmth of the lighting had been replaced with cooler tones, and she noticed for the first time that the curtains were drawn tight across the glass walls. A subtle hum in the air told her the security system was active.
Kieran didn't release her wrist until they were inside his office. He shut the door behind them, the sound final.
"You have two minutes to explain why you were meeting him."
She met his gaze head-on. "And you have two minutes to explain who gave you that video."
He didn't answer. Instead, he moved to the desk, pulled open a drawer, and tossed a slim black folder onto the surface between them. "This is the file I bought. Look at it."
Her fingers hesitated on the leather cover before flipping it open.
It wasn't just the fraud video. It was photographs, grainy surveillance shots of her father shaking hands with men she didn't recognize, envelopes passing between them, timestamps stretching back years. There were transcripts of phone calls, bank transfers, even a single image of her mother walking into a private club in Rome she'd never mentioned visiting.
She looked up sharply. "You've had all of this?"
"I've had enough of it to know your father is in deeper than either of us can dig him out. And the man who sold me this, he's not finished."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Who is he?"
Kieran's eyes hardened. "A name you don't want in your mouth, Selene. The kind of man who makes men like me look tame."
She closed the folder slowly. "And you think keeping me in the dark will protect me?"
"I think...," he said, stepping closer, "that if you keep running off to midnight meetings, you'll paint a target on your back so bright even I won't be able to shield you."
Her chin lifted. "Maybe I don't want your shield."
His gaze locked with hers, heat and warning tangled together. "Then you'd better start building your own."
The clock on the wall ticked past 2:00 a.m. when Kieran finally spoke again.
"Tomorrow, you're not leaving the penthouse. Not for lunch. Not for air. Not for anything."
She crossed her arms. "You can't just keep me locked up."
His mouth curved dangerously, unamused. "Watch me."
"And if I refuse?"
He leaned in until his breath was warm against her ear. "Then I'll put men on you who will follow you into the bathroom. Your choice."
She wanted to spit back a retort, to tell him he was insane, but the truth was still pressing against her ribs: someone else was in this game, and she didn't know the rules.
And Alexander, had he been telling the truth? Or just baiting her into his own trap?
The intercom on Kieran's desk crackled to life, a voice speaking in rapid Italian she couldn't follow. Kieran's entire posture changed, every muscle tight, eyes narrowing.
He ended the call, looked at her, and said only, "He knows you were at the pier."
Before she could ask who he was, the security lights outside the penthouse flared white, movement sensors triggered.