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I settle a little deeper into the couch, my head tilting just enough to rest against Bodhi’s shoulder. Not fully. Just enough to feel the thrum of his pulse against my temple.

Bodhi shifts slightly, letting his fingers trace the barest touch down the outside of my arm. Just once.

They say nothing.

And that silence—that stillness—is louder than anything.

Because they’re letting me choose. For now.

And maybe—for one fucking night—I can sit between them and justbe.

Not as the agent. Not as the target.

Just… me.

And if that version of me is twisted, bruised, and too tired to keep snarling?

Then fine, I’ll take it.

The movie plays on. The heroine screams into the void, shotgun smoking. Everything burns.

And I sit between two men who already burned everything else to the ground just to keep me here.

Just breathing.

And maybe—for now—that’s enough.

Chapter 46

Rule

Shefallsasleeptwentyminutes into the second movie. Somewhere between the third explosion and the antihero’s last betrayal, she gave in.

Matteo had glanced over when her head started to tip toward my shoulder. I gave him a look and he stretched out on the couch and pretended not to keep checking on her every few minutes.

But I didn’t pretend.

I watched every breath.

Because I wanted this.

This moment.

This surrender she didn’t mean to give.

Her lashes didn’t flutter. Her hands twitched once, a little aftershock of exhaustion maybe. The tank top she wore rode up just enough to show the marks low on her ribs. Our marks. Her body was still wrecked from the fight-turned-fuck we dragged her through. And she fell asleep anyway.

With us.

She never relaxes like this. Not fully.

The movie’s still playing in the background—gunshots, sirens, shattered glass echoing across the sound system. But her breathing stays soft. Steady. She’s deep under now.

She fought so hard not to relax tonight.

But she still fell asleep between us.

Because part of her—some buried, feral part—trustsus now.