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Killian glared at Edward.

“You know damn well why I had to challenge you to a duel,” he said.

Edward put his hands up in defeat, “Peace, my friend. And yes, I do know. Now, will you talk to me?”

Killian hesitated, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Edward’s gaze remained steady and patient, and eventually, Killian relented. He explained the tension between him and Yvette, his fears, his guilt, and the argument that had driven a wedge between them.

Edward listened intently, his expression growing more serious with each passing moment. When Killian had finished, Edward leaned back in his chair, studying him.

“You’re a fool,” Edward said bluntly, earning a glare from Killian.

“And before you get defensive, hear me out. Yvette is strong, yes, but she’s also human. She’s your wife, Killian. She needs you to fight for her, not against her.”

Killian’s jaw tightened. “And what if I’m the one who fails her?”

“Then you try again,” Edward said firmly. “Marriage isn’t about perfection; it’s about commitment. You’re so consumed by your fears that you’re pushing her away, and in doing so, you’re hurting both of you. If you care for her—and I know you do—you need to face whatever demons you’re wrestling with and let her in completely.”

Killian remained silent, Edward’s words cutting deeper than he cared to admit.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of raised voices at the entrance. Both men turned to see Lachlan barging into the club.

He pushed past the staff, his expression grim as he scanned the room.

“Killian! God, man, I have been looking for ye everywhere!” Lachlan’s voice boomed as he spotted him, drawing the attention of several patrons.

Killian rose from his seat, concern tightening his features.

“Lachlan, what is it?”

Yvette had been sleeping soundly, the dark comfort of the night enveloping her when a blood-curdling scream pierced the quiet. She jolted upright, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“Fire!” came the shout from outside her door, muffled yet urgent. The words hit her like a physical blow, and she froze for a split second, panic clawing at her throat.

“Fire?” she thought in confusion. When the harsh stench of smoke reached her nose, her heart began pounding even harder, but she couldn’t bring herself to make a swift decision.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, the frantic cries of servants running to and fro. Yvette’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening, the haze of sleep still thick in her thoughts.

She swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet landing on the cold floor. Smoke was beginning to creep under her door, curling in different shapes like a cloud.

But then, amidst the frenzy, she heard a loud scream that didn’t belong to anyone but Maisie. Her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat.

Without thinking, Yvette bolted to the door, flinging it open. She didn’t pause to think, didn’t wait for instructions. The only thing that mattered was reaching Maisie.

“Maisie!” Yvette cried, her voice raw with desperation. She dashed down the hallway, her nightgown trailing behind her like a ghost in the thickening smoke. Servants scurried past her, their faces pale with fear, but Yvette didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop.

Her feet pounded against the wooden floors, her mind focused solely on Maisie.

Yvette reached Maisie’s room in what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was mere moments. She froze in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat. The sight before her was enough to steal the air from her lungs.

Killian stood with his back stiff and his jaw clenched as he watched Lachlan, his breath heavy, fists clenched at his sides.

Lachlan, still out of breath from his sudden arrival, hadn’t said what the issue was, and Killian was running out of patience.

“What is the matter?” He pressed again, hoping for a direct answer, but Edward seemed to take in their surroundings, and how Lachlan’s arrival had affected the club—not that Killian cared— as he stretched out his arms between the two men.

“Perhaps we should all sit and let Lachlan catch his breath,” Edward suggested.