Page 160

Two figures—one on each side of the bed.

Still as statues.

Each wearing a glowing neon mask—one red, one green.

Each holding a knife to the throats of the men I love.

Matteo jolts awake.

His hand flies up—almost catches the wrist of the man holding the knife at his throat—but the blade doesn’t move. It just presses harder.

Bodhi comes to a half-second later, blinking up at the ceiling, then glancing down at the blade beside his neck like it’s an inconvenience.

Matteo snarls low, voice rough and venom-laced. “How thefuckdo people keep getting past my security?”

The red mask tilts toward him, and the voice that comes out is modulated—cold, robotic, with just enough edge to make my spine stiffen.

“Because your security is ajoke,” he says dryly. “Even a five-year-old could hack that system. Honestly, I expected better.”

Matteo’s glare could set bone on fire.

Hydessa clears her throat, her hand still lightly pressed to my shoulder. “So…” she says, slow and deliberate, eyes flicking between the masked men and the half-naked chaos of the bed, “you need rescuing or…?”

Her gaze lands on Bodhi and lingers. I know that look.

Sherecognizeshim.

Of course she fucking does. She knows him from the organization. But she’s not saying anything. Not yet.

I sit up slowly, rubbing a hand across my face. “I’m good,” I mutter. “Don’t need rescuing.”

Hydessa arches a brow. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing it looks like you lost an argument with a knife.”

“We’ve moved past the bloodletting,” I mutter. “Mostly.”

Bodhi shifts under the knife, stretching lazily like a jungle cat. “Wouldn’t say no to a coffee, though.”

“Shut up,” Matteo growls.

Hydessa snorts and flicks her eyes back to me. “Well, in that case,” she says, voice suddenly more clipped, “maybe get up. Fix your hair. Wipe the sex off your face.”

I blink at her. “Why?”

She gives me a long, weighted look. “Because our parents are about ten minutes behind us.”

My soul leaves my body.

“And Uncle Max,” she adds sweetly.

Jesus.Fucking. Christ.

The masked intruders vanish like smoke—as quickly as they arrived. Just a final, glitchy “Upgrade your firewalls, moron,” tossed over a shoulder in that same modulated tone.

Then one blink, and they’re gone—slipping back into the shadows like a shared hallucination. Hydessa rolls her eyes like this is somehownormaland mutters something about cloak-and-dagger freaks needing to schedule their chaos before she disappears out the door too.

Matteo flips off the air they vacated with a murderous grunt. “Ihatepeople.”

“You’re not allowed to talk about security ever again,” I mutter, yanking on a hoodie over my dirty shirt and frantically dragging my fingers through my hair. “Ever.”