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“You’re lying,” Marcus finally chimes in, his smile fading into something darker. The predator in him recognizes the lie but seems momentarily intrigued by my audacity.

“You listen to me,” my voice drops lower, filled with conviction, “if you touch her or say another word against her …” My fists clench at my sides as I take a step forward, my need to protect her surging through me. “You’ll answer to me.”

Gio looks ready to laugh again, but Marcus raises a hand to silence him—his expression shifting, weighing the implications of what I’ve just claimed.

“I don’t think you realize who you’re dealing with,” Marcus warns.

I take a breath and push back against that dark undertone of his threat.

“Oh, believe me,” I say coolly, meeting Marcus’s eye and leaning so close our faces nearly touch. “I know exactly who you are. The question is, do youreallyknow me?”

Every word I speak drips with resolve. There’s no turning back now.

I stalk through the crowd,the beat of the club thrumming in my chest. Each step brings me closer to the table where Seb has now joined Eve and her friends. He’s flirting with Olivia, laughter bubbling between them like champagne—too light, too carefree for the darkness lurking around us.

Seb leans closer to Olivia, that trademark charm of his in full swing. I glare, my jaw tightening as I shake my head. What the hell is he doing? He’s flirting with fire, and I won’t let him get burned—especially not with her.

“Sebastian,” I call out, forcing authority into my voice as I reach their table.

He glances up, a playful smirk dancing on his lips before it falters under my stare. “Hey, big bro,” he chirps like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I keep my expression hard as I stop beside Eve. I feel her green eyes on me, but I don’t look down. I’ll deal with her in a minute. I turn sharply toward Seb, not masking my irritation. “You need to back off.”

“Back off?” he replies, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Zeke. She’s just here having a good time.”

“She’s not your plaything,” I snap back at him.

Olivia shifts in her seat, glancing between us with curiosity tinged with discomfort. I can almost see her processing everything—my anger and Seb’s casual dismissal of it. She knows what this life is like and that she too could pay a steep price for being with Seb.

“She can handle herself,” Seb shoots back defiantly. “Besides, we were just filling Eve in on how we all know each other.”

I suppress a growl rising in my throat. We don’t have time for this right now. The mafia families are here tonight—Eve’s in danger—and flirting with Olivia isn’t just reckless. It could jeopardize all our lives.

“Not tonight,” I say sharply enough that it leaves no room for argument. “You know this is dangerous.”

His smile fades entirely now as reality sinks in.

Deciding to deal with my brother later, I grab Eve by the arm. The heat radiating off her skin ignites a spark of something I can’t quite name. “We need to talk.”

She tries to yank free from my grip, her anger flaring. “Let me go, Zeke. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Trust me, you want to come with me,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and holding her close in the way a couple in love would do. Thankfully, she doesn’t fight me. I steer her through the crowd and up the stairs toward my office.

My heart hammers—not from the thrill of her presence but from the urgency of the situation. This isn’t just a casual outing. It’s a damn minefield.

“Why? So you can tell me how little I meant to you?” She hurls the words back at me, fury dancing in those same emerald eyes that used to spark something more intimate.

I push open the door to my office and pull her inside, slamming it shut behind us. The thud reverberates like a gunshot in my chest. “Your cover is blown.”

She glares at me, chest heaving as she crosses her arms defiantly. “What are you talking about?”

“Giovanni Costa recognized you from your undercover operation. You know who he is, right?” The words come out clipped and tense. “He thinks you’re someone else—a hooker.”

Her expression shifts from anger to confusion, fear creeping in around the edges. “What? I’m not—”

“Marcus Barone knows who you really are,” I interrupt sharply. I don’t bother explaining who he is. If she’s a good cop, then she knows just as much about Marcus as I do. “That means they’ll target you. It’s not just your job on the line—it’s your life.”

My words are like an anchor as she processes what this means. For a moment, she falters, eyes wide as she grasps how deep this rabbit hole goes.