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Something in my chest constricts painfully as I watch them together. This is a side of Zeke I never expected to see—this patient, playful man who’s completely engaged in my nephew’s imagination. The same hands that killed Gio are now carefully connecting tiny plastic bricks, creating something magical with a child’s wonder.

I’ve never denied Zeke’s physical appeal. His salt-and-pepper beard highlighting our age difference, towering height, and muscular build have always drawn my eye. But watching him in this moment stirs something deeper. I yearn to keep this version of him in my life forever.

Leo spots me first, his face lighting up. “Aunt Evie! Look what Zeke and I built.”

Zeke looks up, winks, and gives me a smile that makes my heart melt.

I try to speak, but my throat is too tight. The scene before me is overwhelming—this dangerous man I’m being forced to marry, sitting on the floor building Legos with my nephew as if he belongs here. As if this is normal.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watch as Zeke leans in close to Leo, whispering something that makes my nephew’s eyes go wide with wonder. Leo bounces on his knees, barely containing his excitement as Zeke reaches behind his back with deliberate slowness.

“What is it?” Leo says, vibrating with anticipation.

A small smile plays at the corners of Zeke’s mouth—not his usual smirk, but something softer, more genuine. He produces a tiny Lego dragon, its wings spread wide, and Leo squeals in delight.

“This,” Zeke says in a conspiratorial tone, “is a special dragon. See how its wings shimmer?”

Leo scrambles closer to Zeke, their heads bent together as they examine the dragon. Zeke’s massive frame dwarfs Leo’s small one, yet there’s no fear in Leo’s posture. No hesitation. He treats Zeke like an old friend, completely at ease with the man I view as my captor.

My heart races, a confusing mix of emotions washing over me. There’s curiosity about this softer side of Zeke I never knew existed. A strange jealousy that Leo has discovered it so easily. Underneath it all, a dangerous warmth spreads through my chest at the domestic scene before me.

I cross my arms tightly, trying to hold these feelings at bay. This man is still forcing me into marriage. Still operating outside the law. Still dangerous.

So why does watching him with Leo make me want to sink down beside them and join their little world of dragons and castles?

The scene is almost too much to bear. I need a drink. Badly.

My boots pound against the hardwood floors as I make my way to Zeke’s impressive kitchen. The granite countertops gleam under the recessed lighting, and I head straight for the liquor cabinet I discovered during my earlier explorations of the house.

My hands tremble as I pull out a bottle of gin and search for tonic water. Leo’s delighted laughter echoes from the living room, followed by Zeke’s deeper chuckle, and my stomach does that weird flip again.

“Get it together,” I mutter, measuring gin into a glass with more force than necessary. Ice cubes clink against the sides as I add them, the sharp sound matching my jangled nerves.

I take a long sip, welcoming the familiar burn. The gin is top-shelf, of course—everything in Zeke’s house is the best money can buy. Even his damn Lego sets probably cost a small fortune.

Another peal of laughter and I grip the counter. A week ago, I was just a detective trying to do my job. Now I’m standing in a killer’s kitchen, drinking his expensive gin, while he plays with my nephew like some kind of … what? Surrogate father figure?

The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I take another drink, longer this time.

I should be terrified. I should be planning our escape. Instead, I’m standing here fighting the urge to join them, to see more of this gentler version of Zeke that Leo has somehow unlocked.

“This is just Stockholm syndrome,” I whisper to myself, but even as I say it, I know it’s not true. The warmth spreading through my chest isn’t just from the gin. It’s from watching Zeke—the man who terrifies hardened criminals, who killed Giovanni Costa without blinking an eye to save me—get down on his knees to play with a child.

I pour more gin into my glass, needing the burn to drown out these dangerous thoughts. The tonic water fizzes as I add it, bubbles rising like the confusion in my chest.

Chapter 10

Parallel Desires

Ezekiel

The sizzle of butter hitting the hot pan fills my kitchen as sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s barely seven in the morning, but I’ve been up for hours, my mind racing with thoughts of Eve’s safety and the growing threat from the Costa family. Still, there’s something oddly peaceful about this moment—standing here in my gourmet kitchen, preparing breakfast for a seven-year-old kid.

I crack another egg into the pan, watching the white spread and bubble around the perfect yolk. Leo had mentioned wanting his eggs “over easy, please” in that polite little voice of his. The “please” had caught me off guard. It’s been a long time since anyone’s used that word with me sans fear.

The coffee maker hisses and steams behind me, filling the air with rich Colombian roast. Everything in my kitchen is top of the line—professional grade appliances, granite countertops, custom cabinetry—but this morning it feels different. Less like a showpiece and more like … home.

I shake my head at the thought. Home isn’t something I’ve allowed myself to think about since Sebastian and I left New York. Sure, I own this house, the club. But they’re assets, notsanctuaries. At least, they were until last night when Leo’s laughter echoed through these rooms like it belonged here.