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“No. But he was constant in one thing—wanting me. At least until recently.” She sneaks another look at Rae.

I turn to my brother and Raegan. “Could you give us a moment?”

Rae finishes pouring tea and drops into a seat at the other end of the table. “No.”

I swallow a groan. Please, I implore her silently.

A stubborn jerk of her chin. Fuck no.

Damn it. I called her a queen, and she is one now.

In full.

“He doesn’t want me anymore. I called him out on it, and he got physical.” Eva angles her head, and in the light, it’s impossible not to see the shadow beneath her cheekbone. She turns her cup in her hands, lips pressing together. “At first, it was exciting. It felt as if he needed me in a way you never did.”

When her gaze lands on me, I see accusation and sadness mixed together.

“You want protection,” I guess.

“Why not go to the police?” Sebastian asks.

Eva’s gaze narrows on Sebastian. “With the amount I’ve spent on skincare, I’d like to continue looking twenty-five for another few decades. Which is hard to do when you’re dead.”

“What are you offering?” I ask.

“Harrison…” Rae says. “This shouldn’t be a negotiation.”

I’m struck by the contrast between the two women.

Eva is willing to do anything to save her own skin.

Rae is pragmatic enough to know how the world works but idealistic enough to try to make it better, even for people who don’t deserve it.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Eva’s voice trembles at the edges.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out.

Christian: Don’t say I never gave you anything.

“Excuse me.” I brush Rae’s cheek with my knuckle on my way past her to the steps upstairs—a simple gesture to let her know I’m still here with her.

I hit the contact, and he answers on the second ring.

“This was you?” I demand as I reach for a shirt, shrugging into it.

“She didn’t know where to go. I steered her your way.”

I step out of my room, peering over the railing at the three of them seated at the table below.

“I don’t want her,” I say under my breath as I fasten the buttons on my shirt.

“A woman who knows Mischa’s habits and secrets? You can’t use that?”

A day ago, I would’ve cut off my own arm for this type of information. But I promised Raegan I’d let it go.

I hang up and walk down the stairs. At the bottom, Rae rises from her chair and reads my expression. She jerks her head toward the kitchen and I follow.

When we’re out of earshot, I explain about Christian’s text. “Eva has enough information to take him down a dozen times over. But,” I go on as she stiffens, “I promised you I wouldn’t. That I’d lay it down. We can send her packing. Pretend this never happened.”