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“So someone’s been hacking into your system,” I deduce.

“Only once,” he corrects, jaw hardening. “This was a month ago.” He glances at me, eyes pitch black. “The night of April twentieth.”

I’d never paid much attention to the calendar. Like, if the police called me in and asked me what I was doing on a specific date and time three weeks prior, I’d have no idea. Until I got pregnant, and my life got slotted into something charted in days and weeks. Until I started swapping my life between East and West.

The night of April twentieth is seared into my mind for a completely different reason.

That was the night of the break-in.

“What are you saying?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” he admits, his fingers flying over the keys as he digs deeper. “But someone got past our security, and I haven’t been able to figure out how. Because our system was flawless—except someone got past the exterior wall without triggering my sensors.”

“Can you trace it?”

“No.” He leans back in his seat, eyes focused on the computer screen, but they’re not focused. He’s deep in thought, thumb making lazy strokes up and down my leg. With a burst of energy, he bends back over the keyboard, typing in a string of numbers. A new screen pops up, and he mutters, “Son of a bitch.”

“Did you find them?” I lean over, but nothing on the screen makes sense.

“No, but I don’t think I need to.” He looks up at me and grins. “They left something better.”

“They did?” I’m so confused, and it only continues when he stands and grabs one of his hoodies. He walks over and stands in front of me, pulling the heavy fabric over my head. It smells like him, but it does nothing to answer my questions. “Pace,” I say, working my arms into the sleeves, “what’s happening right now?”

“There’s only one person who could breach my system.” He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a gun. “And I’m going to find out who hired him.”

22

Pace

It’s been botheringme this whole time.

Howthe intruder got through palace security.

I know it’s not impenetrable. Every lock can be picked. Every wall scaled. Every fortress breached. But there is always evidence of how. Tools. Fingerprints.Something.

But there’d been nothing.

Except now, I see it. It’d been in front of me this whole time.

And that stupid slimy dumbass thought he was going to get away with it.

I pull the Lamborghini up in front of the shitty building, leaning over Verity to open the glove compartment. She sucks in a breath when she sees the gun I stowed in there.

“Pace,” she says, “are you sure—”

“Wait here for me.” I slide the chamber, the sound loud in the small space. “This should only take a minute.”

“Maybe I should come with you,” she says, eyeing the gun.

I turn to her, regretting having to bring her along to begin with. She’s wearing the prettiest little cream-colored dress, all flowy and delicate, peeking out from beneath my hoodie. Her hands are wringing in her lap, the worry clear in her eyes. She doesn’t belong here, but the thought of leaving her alone in the Palace was a complete non-starter.

“Rosi,” I say, reaching over to rest my palm on the small swell of her stomach, “there is no fucking universe where Lex would forgive me if I took you into that shithole. Not when I’m handling business.” I also don’t trust her to be alone.Anywhere.Not without my eyes on her all the time, and right now, this is the best I can do. Holding her stare, I command, “Stay here. Keep the doors locked.” Handing her my phone, I add, “If something happens, go to the text marked ‘W/L’ and send the numbers237. They’ll understand.”

“Mayhem?” Her face falls, eyes pinging toward the building. Everyone in Forsyth knows those numbers and what it means. “Are… are you going to hurt someone?”

Yes.

But I can’t exactly say that, not with the flash of fear in her eyes. If I did, I might have to find out she’s more afraidofme thanforme. “Not if I don’t need to,” I say instead.