The centuries' weight—of blood and greed and war—hung heavily in the air.William chuckled, spinning the glass of whiskey in his hands. "You think you're superior to me? Different?"He approached closer, his voice as icy as cold water. "You bear my blood. You can fight it all you can, but you'll never be anything else but my son."Nathaniel's jaw snapped shut. "Then I'll spend the remainder of eternity denying you."William's eyes blazed with something—disappointment? No, anger.He slapped the whiskey glass on the table, and it broke. The sound echoed through the big room. "Then you leave me no choice."Nathaniel stood up. "What do you mean?His father's face hardened, his own face hard and unyielding. "You want to be allied with the Thompsons? You can. But listen to this, Nathaniel… from this moment on, you are not my son."The words cut deeper than a knife.Nathaniel's breath was trapped, but he strained himself up. "Then that makes two of us."For the first time in his life, he did
His own son—his own blood and flesh—had betrayed him.The treachery blazed hotter than the fires receding in the horizon."Shut up, Nathaniel," William snarled, striking his fist into the metal belly of the airplane.Seated across from him was one of his most dependable men, Marcus Steele, wiping blood from his mangled lip. "Sir, we should rethink. The Thompson family is not going away. They have money, they have connections—William's glare was toxic. "I don't care what they've got." Dead, deadly tone. "Eliana Thompson stole everything from us. And now my own son has the decency to be standing with her?"He spun on his pilot. "Faster. We have to get out of the city before the authorities surround it."Marcus hesitated before continuing. "Sir… Nathaniel can still be of some use. Maybe we could—"William pulled Marcus by the collar, dragging him towards him, inches from Marcus's face, his breath smelling of rage. "Nathaniel is dead to me. Hear me? DEAD."Marcus gulped hard, wide-eyed,
There was an awe stricken silence that swept over the room.Sabrina's breathing, too, had ceased. "What?"Eliana's mouth was dry. "He planted the bomb at the convention. And when that didn't work, he tried to kill me. If not for Nathaniel and Damian." she broke off her voice,".I would not be alive."Benedict's expression turned cold. "That abomination."Saben wasn't swallowing it, however. He was cold with anger. "And we're doing this on his word? He's a Harper. His father attempted to kill you. And now we're going to accept his word that he defected from his father?"Nathaniel's voice cut across him, hard but controlled. "I'm not my father."Saben snarled, advancing as if to hit him. "You carry his name, don't you?"Before this was allowed to go further, a third individual appeared in the room.Tap of cane on marble floors.Wendy Taylor.Leslie Auburn, Sabrina's mother, behind her. The two women who managed the families entered the room, their white faces contorted with horror and a
Nathaniel Harper stood in the dark of the hospital room, his fists clenched.The doctor had closed them into this small space, forcing them to confront each other in the intimate light of the bedside lamp.Years of their past hanging between them like a gauntlet.Damian spoke the first word softly."Trust you?" His voice was harsh, from pain and anger. "After all your family's done?"Nathaniel didn't blink. "I did not choose my name."Damian snorted with a bitter laugh. "No, but you damn well profited for years on it."Nathaniel's breath came harshly. "And now I'm suffering for defying it."Damian's glacial stare cut through him, searching for deceit.He was seeking to uncover a coward.A traitor.But what he did uncover instead?A man who'd lost everything.Nathaniel's voice lowered, a rough tone edging in. "William won't quit. You know that."Damian's jaw was locked. "Yeah. I know."Nathaniel paused, then moved closer. "Then let me help."Damian laughed. "Help? The last time I trust
William spat out a bitter laugh. "Luck had nothing to do with it."The doctor hesitated. "You need rest. Pushing yourself—"William's glare cut him off. "I don't have time for rest."The physician huffed but nodded and left the room.William beside him, he placed a call on his phone.A mechanical voice answered. "Yes?"Harper in steel tones. "I want them all killed."There was a man in a suit beside him, tension in his shoulders. His voice even, controlled. "Understood. But. Your son, sir, is Nathaniel."William's fists were fists. Searing pain lightninged across his side, but he didn't care. He'd been shot once. He'd bled before. That wasn't paining him.Betrayal was.His own blood betrayed him.His own son.William's lips twisted into a sneer-grimace. "Not anymore."The man staggered. "Sir—"William's tone was icy. "I do not care how much it costs. I want them dead. All of them."There was silence. Then finally, a gentle, "Understood."The door closed with a crash.William took a sh
The stillness of the hospital corridor had seemed so alien from the tempest of thoughts racing through Eliana's head. She sat with her elbows on her knees and fists clenched firmly together along the edge of a waiting-room chair.All this happened too suddenly yesterday.Damian Wolfe rested in his bed at the hospital, injured but recovering. Nathaniel Harper had defied his father and stood by her. And William Harper—cruel, killing, harsh—still existed, patiently waiting.She gasped sharply, trying to calm down.And then, in the midst of familiar quiet that was habitual, a voice interrupted."So… who's it going to be?"Eliana turned her head to look up at Sabrina Auburn looming over her, arms crossed, the wicked glint in her icy eyes.Eliana frowned. "What am I saying?"Sabrina chuckled, tilting her head to one side. "Come on, Eliana. I'm not dim. Two handsome, seriously sexy males hovering around you like wolves, ready to tear each other apart into shreds? It's practically a bloody mov
Rain hit the hospital's glass windows, each drop reminding her that time was escaping her. Disinfectant and cold wind were the scents as Eliana stood stock-still in the hallway, her trembling hands clasped around the railing.Nathaniel Harper towered above her, his blue eyes veiled in desperation."You don't understand, Eliana. My dad—he's dead." His words were a growl, the words cutting through the air like the fine tooth of a blade.Eliana's swallow was concrete in her throat. "What do you mean?"Nathaniel sucked a rough breath into his chest, standing on the muscles in the back of his neck. "Vincent. My second. He's hunting me. Hunting you." His jaw hardened. "My father wants me to hurt. And he'll start with you."A chill ran through Eliana's body. As she thought about her answer, her ears picked up a voice that conquered the tension in the room.“I’d love to see him try Damian.”Damian Wolfe.Eliana had just time to see him leaning against the doorframe of the hospital room. His
Dmitri’s smile stretched slow and serpentine across his face, eyes glinting like a blade catching light. “Good. Very good.”Nathaniel was on his feet in an instant. “You’re playing with fire, Eliana.”She stood tall, despite the quake in her chest. “Then let me burn.”Damian whistled low. "Remind me never to mess with you."Dmitri clapped once, the sound echoing through the warehouse like a shot. "Now we're getting somewhere. I like her. Too bad she's saddled with idiots."Nathaniel's glare could've softened steel. "If she gets hurt—""You'll do what? Growl at me?" Dmitri teased. "Relax, Harper. I'm not asking her to smuggle plutonium. Yet." He winked at Eliana.She didn't flinch. "What's the delivery?"Dmitri pulled out a weathered manila envelope from a locked drawer beneath the bar. “Coordinates. Names. A package.” He tossed it on the table. “You’ll take it to an old contact of mine. Neutral ground. He’ll trade it for something that might just help all of us survive William Harper.
Her fingers stroked the material. "Okay," she breathed.The boutique manager came back once more, and Eliana smiled, her voice more even now. "We'll take this one.""Good choice, Miss Thompson." The manager clicked her fingers together, obviously delighted. "We'll have it steamed and wrapped up to deliver this evening, or would you like to take it with you?"He rested against the door of the fitting room, arms crossed, suit perfect, tie razor-sharp—but jaw clenched, eyes contained, tracking her each movement in the mirror."You're staring," she said without raising her gaze."You knew you would."Eliana swung around reluctantly, glancing at him.The way he regarded her—it wasn't admiration. It was possession, and something in his eyes that bordered on restraint."Well?" she breathed. "Too much?"His gaze dropped to the V of the neckline, black, and up to her face."It's perfect," he said softly. "Perilously perfect."A silence. The whir of the boutique died under weight of air between
There was silence. Alexa was always too professional ever to say anything that wasn't absolutely imperative, but Eliana could almost feel the twitch of interest in the static."Oh, of course, ma'am. I'll alert Mr. Wolfe right away."The intercom clicked off.Eliana slowly breathing out through her nose, her fingers running along the top of the desk as if signing the lines of her own doubt.Why does the ring of his name feel like pulling on wire that had twisted hard against her ribcage?Damian Wolfe. Her shadow. Her bodyguard. The man whose lips whispered softly, and whose eyes whispered too loudly, leaving her quivering.It was not right—the way he gazed at her. The way he avoided gazing at her when he should have.As Nathaniel had been comfortable with the old version of her… Damian was comfortable with the woman she wasn't yet. With the one with burning rage, fear, and smoldering lust all twisted up in one.She sat back from her computer screen, attempting to escape in work, but he
She did not scroll to the top of her phone contact list. She did not have to. Damian Wolfe was the first on everyone else's list—just like Nathaniel Carter was. Two names. Two men. One choice she'd never been able to make.Until today.Her thumb was still hovering, her breathing even.One telephone call changed the direction of her life.Before she could get cold feet, she heard footsteps—heavy, slow, familiar.She turned.Damian stood in the doorway to her office.And something about the way he was looking at her—as if she were his shelter and his tempest—stole her breath."Eliana," he said softly. "I'm not going to press you. I swear. I just. I needed to confirm that you were okay.""I am not," Eliana said softly. "But I will be."He bobbed his head. "Good. Because I've watched you shatter and remade myself. I understand how strong you can be once you finally begin not to attempt to flee from yourself."There was something primal in his gaze, something smothered yet deeply well-wrou
Vincent smiled at her. "Does your security detail have a habit of crashing high-level meetings?"Noelle smiled to himself as he put away the tray."Men, take a five."Reluctance was there, but Vincent finally relented. "As you desire, bella."The others flowed out of the room, and he was left alone with her.Eliana stood in front of Damian, arms crossed, but her voice was filled with softness. "You didn't need to defend me like that."He leaned in over her. "I wasn't sticking up for you. I was reminding them who the hell you are.""I know who I am.""Then why are you allowing this world to destroy you just so you won't hurt?" His words cut her like glass."I'm not avoiding—You haven't even cried," Damian breathed, pulling another closer to her. "Not for the disaster Harper created. Not for Nathaniel. Not even for you."She pulled her face away. "If I do, I would not be able to stop."She waited. Then:"I'd defend you if you did."Her eyes were burning. She raised her face, and there
She hauled herself up, carefully brushing her matted hair out of her face, her heart slowed a bit now. More confident. Less frantic.Her gaze returned to the phone.No new messages.And for once, that didn't sting like abandonment.It felt like freedom.She stood, walked barefoot into the kitchen, and poured the forgotten tea down the drain. It had cooled. Like the version of herself who sat around waiting for someone else to pick her.That version had fallen silent now, too.A vibration on the counter startled her.Damian.Just his name. No note. Just a missed call.She gazed at it forever, then she murdered the screen's power. She wasn't ready—not for him, not yet. Perhaps never.She moved to the living room, attracted by the hum of the television behind her. Her brother's form glowed under the blue light, stretched out on the couch with a pillow over his face as if he hadn't intended to sleep but the rest of the world had otherwise."Saben?" she whispered.He groaned. "Mmhmm?""Did
The door closed gently, but to Eliana it was a gunshot.Her spine against the wood, she was frozen, her breathing barely more than a stillness. Her voice was still stuck in her throat, her heart bruising under the words she had said to Nathaniel-the words she had only recently realized for herself. "What have I done?" Eliana whispered into the silence, her voice faltering slightly.The Thompson estates did hulk over her in oppressive silence. The sort that did not forgive-it judged.Stumbling, she fell to the couch with her knees buckling under her. Her hand brushed against the thick cushion next to her, which Nathaniel would lean against for drawing her into himself and whisper, "You feel like home.""Then why do I feel so far from it now?" she whispered.Her phone flashed when she answered it. No messages. No missed calls. No apologies. No begging. No promises. Just her. Alone. With the wreckage of something she couldn't fix.She stared at Damian's name burning on her screen. Her t
Eliana resolved to speak with Nathaniel.Nathaniel's presidential suite door was too intimate. It repelled her.She’d memorized the weight of her hand knocking on it. The scent of his cedarwood cologne that always lingered in the hallway. The way her heart used to leap—used to believe—that she belonged here.But now, everything felt quieter.Not empty. Just. still.He opened the door after two knocks, like he’d been waiting. Like he knew.“Eliana.” His voice cracked the silence like thunder rolling in slow motion. “You’re here.”She nodded, catching her breath.He hadn't slept. Rumpled shirt, rolled-up sleeves. Hair ever so slightly too messy. Eyes ever so slightly too shattered.As if he'd been injured by her very indecision."May I enter?" she asked, knowing the response in advance. Nathaniel stepped aside. "You don't need permission."She entered as if it would be her last time ever pushing the door open.He stood there with arms crossed over chest, shoulder blade against the wall
The sun filtered a reluctant angle over Eliana's headboard blinds, tinting the floor in pale golden stripes as if someone was trying to make amends for a bitter, long-fought battle. She was lying on her side, the crescent moon charm still amazing her palm, her fingers clenched around it as if it might prevent her heart from breaking into fragments.But there was reality—that her heart was already broken. In more than one place.Tap. Light. Soothing."Enter," she breathed, already suspecting who it was.Sabrina entered, loose linen thrown over her, bearing a tray full of hot tea. She put it down on the floor without a word at all, eyes drinking in the broken pieces of her daughter's mind.Eliana sat up, legs tucked under her, hair wet from last night's rain. "May I ask you something?" she asked."Always," Sabrina replied, sitting on the bed, facing her."How did you know?" Eliana's voice broke. "How did you know Dad was the one? Was it easy?"Sabrina's eyes softened. "No. God, no. It w
The storm was over, but the earthy scent of the rain remained. Fragile mist curled from the window panes of Eliana's room; now the sun had to struggle to break free from the clouds, while everything around looked bathed in soft golden light. The world looked washed clean—fresh, mysterious, like a blank page with wet ink smeared at the edges.Eliana sat on the edge of her bed, the silver crescent pendant sitting quietly in her palm. She smoothed its curve with her thumb repeatedly, as though it would somehow open up a hidden answer to her if she pressed hard enough.The sketch Saben left lay beside her, and she’d stared at it until the ink seemed to blur and reshape itself. Damian on one side. Nathaniel on the other. And her—right in the middle, like a bridge being pulled at both ends.She hadn’t slept. Not really. Just drifted in and out of thoughts so loud they echoed inside her skull."You’re the shadow that never departed.""You were the light when I was shattering."Two truths. Tw