Page 53 of Brutal Unionn

She finishes stitching the last edge of the healing wound and strips off her gloves with surgical grace.

“I will stay,” she nods, tossing the gloves into the biohazard bin. “But only because you’re not allowed to die on me.”

“I won’t,” I promise, lips twisting into a smirk. “Not until I kill Boris at least.”

“Nah,” a voice drawls from the doorway, a wicked smirk curving his lips. “You gotta live until you killme, at least.”

I don’t flinch. Just slowly turn my head to face him.

Sho is leaning against the doorframe like he owns the air around him. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal the ink curled around his forearms like serpents, his eyes glinting in a look of amusement.

“How did you get in here?” I murmur, brushing hair back from my face.

“Your back window is open,” he shrugs, already walking toward me. He doesn’t stop until he’s close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. “You should really lock your windows and get a better security system.”

“I am the security system,” I groan, moving to the edge of the table.

Rebecca clears her throat, not even looking at him. “She needs to rest. Not fight.”

“I’ll have my guy come and install a full security system—here and at the safe house,” Sho smirks, brushing a featherlight kiss against my temple.

I let out a shaky exhale. My stomach flutters like I am a fucking teenager. Normally, I’d snark. Bite back with something vicious about personal space or assumed control. But I don’t. Because Sho kissing my temple feels so normal. So sweet. So domestic. I don’t know how to feel.

“Sho, I’mfine,” I groan, jerking my head just enough to breakthe contact, like the weight of tenderness feels uncomfortable in my hands.

“She isnotfine,” Rebecca calls from the hall, slinging her tote over her shoulder.

“Whose side are you on?” I snap, shooting daggers at her with my eyes.

“The one that keeps you alive,” she replies smoothly, heels tapping a steady rhythm across the floor.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Sho calls sweetly, still hovering too close for comfort as his eyes dart across my face.

“I’ll see you in three days for a follow-up,” she says, waving a hand over her shoulder.

“Keep siding with him and you won’t have a job,” I shout.

“If you weren’t ill, I’d cut your tongue out for that,” she replies flatly, just as the door creaks open—thenslamsshut behind her.

Sho grins teasingly, winking at me as he finally gives me enough time to breathe. He turns and walks casually into my open-concept kitchen, his fingers already reaching for drawers he shouldn’t know the location of.

“I trust you have sugar in this castle,” he muses.

“Why are you evenhere, Sho?” I groan, forcing myself upright despite the pull in my side.

“Why don’t I see sugar?”

“Because you don’tlivehere.”

“That’s a hell of a way to treat your boyfriend.”

I glare. “You’renotmy boyfriend.”

He pauses mid-rummage, then glances over his shoulder with that infuriating, slow-burn smile. “Say that again.”

“Are you threatening me?” I growl, placing both hands on my hips as my eyes narrow on him.

“Never,” he hisses, voice low and simmering with something volatile. He steps forward with that signature lazy swagger, the kind that fools people into thinking he’s calm—until they catch themanic glazecreeping into his eyes. The heat behind them is unhinged, possessive, lethal.