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Cole Innovations, Downtown Virginia Beach, Virginia,

Quinn Cole ran her finger along the crisp edge of the court petition that would change her life, and his forever. She imagined his reaction when he got served. It was everything she had envisioned. Everything she had clawed her way back from hell to create.

Kade “Dagger” Hollis, Quinn’s brother-in-law, Navy SEAL, and the man who had ruined her life, wouldn’t be blindsided. He was too sharp for that. But he sure as hell wouldn’t have expected her to make the first move.

A part of her had wanted to be there when he read the papers. To watch his expressive, unreadable face shift. His jaw go tight.

To see him angry.

She exhaled slowly, running a hand down the front of her blouse. Brian had always said angry people made mistakes.

Brian’s last words to her, No matter what happens, don’t forget me, had been offhand, sweet at the time, but they had settled in her heart like a vow. Forgetting him would be a betrayal of her husband’s memory, and if she let go, then who was left to remember him?

Deep down, she wanted Kade Hollis to make a mistake.

Because he had taken everything from her.

But that was about to change; the days got better, especially when she was working, and her hard work had paid off. She stood in the heart her office, her design, her resurrection. Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, bouncing off polished steel and warm oak. The architectural firm she’d built from nothing was alive around her, employees moving with purpose, clients in and out, the hum of industry filling the space.

She’d clawed her way through Cornell’s architecture program, brutal, unrelenting, the kind of crucible that broke most before their second year, and she hadn’t just survived it. She’d thrived . Fifteen-hour studio marathons, collapse-then-repeat weeks, the endless churn of critique and revision until the work was more than good. It was visionary.

On her desk, another thick pile of paperwork sat next to the court petition. The large black letters spelled out: US Embassy, Caracas—Final Contract Documents . Cole Innovations had beaten out several bigger, better-established competitors to land the job of designing the new embassy in Venezuela.

Piper McDonald, from the Department of State’s Bureau of Overseas Buildings, had notified her she had won the bid. That was a monumental day for her firm’s reputation, securing a high-profile international project. It was an even bigger day for Quinn herself, because it was proof that she could stand on her own two feet again.

Yet it carried a weight she couldn’t ignore. Caracas. The city where Brian had died. The city that still made her hands shake if she thought about it too long. Dagger had been part of the mission, though he never told her much. Just enough to haunt her.

Her desk phone chirped, snapping her out of her thoughts. She pushed the speaker button. “Yes, Diane?”

Her receptionist’s voice came through bright and clear. “Mrs. Cole, your ten o’clock called. They need to push the meeting to ten-thirty.”

Quinn exhaled slowly. “Thanks, Diane.” She hung up, brushing her fingertips over the court petition again. She had one goal. Get her children back, and she’d taken steps the day before to start that ball rolling. It had been six months of AA of trying to heal, of mending broken relationships, and the first amends she’d made were to them. Elijah and Ezra. Her stoic, sweet, honest, and beloved twin boys whom she loved beyond reason. But she’d failed them. She took a hard breath. She couldn’t go back and fix the past. The only thing she could do was fight to reclaim her future with them.

She felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a creature forged in fire, stronger for the burn, but not untouched. Some feathers still hadn’t caught. The heaviest, most flame-resistant of all was the loss of her children. That one never left her.

Work gave her purpose. A goal to reach. A place where people could belong, expand, build. Her firm gave the receptionist a way to feed her family. But for Quinn, it was something more, an extension of wonder. Like a child, she had always dreamed in structures, knowing even a single line could shape a world. When her friends played with paper dolls, Quinn was designing their houses.

She couldn’t be proud of her company without thinking about what it had taken to get here. Without her husband and children, she’d had so much time to fill, not like when she’d been married, and Brian had not exactly disapproved. In fact, he would smile when she spoke about her dreams for her firm, but there was always a quiet skepticism in his eyes, like he was waiting for her to grow out of them. He told her he admired her ambition, but his actions never quite matched his words. He called her dream, a little company. You’re incredible, but you don’t have to prove anything. You’ve got me.

She heaved a breath, and in that hushed space, resentment crawled in. Not anymore, Brian. You left me alone. Who am I now?

Then there was Dagger. The thoughts came to her before she could shut them down. He had never looked at her with doubt. Never told her to slow down. Never suggested she was reaching too high. You built this from nothing. No one gets to tell you it’s not enough. She clenched her hands around her chair arms, pushing back that thought. They were barely on speaking terms now… all because of you .

While the days were tolerable, there were the nights, those silent, aching hours when memories turned from bittersweet to suffocating. Evenings had become a battleground she waged against herself. In the witching hour, the pull of the bottle felt like a siren’s call. Slipping into its numbing embrace would be so effortless, an escape from the wave of memories. But she clung to sobriety with desperate ferocity. She would not let the ghosts claim her.

The phone beeped once more. Diane’s voice returned. “Piper’s on the line, says she’s got a quick update.”

“Put her through,” Quinn said, forcing a calm she didn’t entirely feel. She picked up the phone. “Piper. How’s your day going?”

“It’s nuts,” Piper said with a tired laugh. “I just wanted to thank you for being such a dream to work with. I owe you a drink.” Quinn stiffened at those words, but she released a breath. “I’m heading out to Caracas tomorrow to get everything situated. I have a lead on a great resident project director. It was a job just getting that nailed down. When will you be arriving again? I have it in my notes, but they’re buried.” There was an apologetic laugh.

This trip was going to be hard. Caracas still echoed with loss, but she wasn’t going there to mourn. She was here to build something out of the ruins of the life she’d lost, and the woman she used to be.

I love how determined you are, baby, but don’t burn yourself out.

She had burned herself out, day after day, to get where she was, and if he was still alive, she wouldn’t have this contract. Brian was a good man, respected, trusted. He was steady, intelligent and devoted to his job. She had loved him, truly. But love and support weren’t always the same thing. He had been trying to protect her from disappointment, from failure. But Dagger had dared her to rise above it. When she’d been working for a small three-man firm, she’d gone for a big contract and Brian had thought she should scale back, but Dagger had said, That’s not who you are.

“Quinn?”

Shocked to feel tears running down her cheeks, she quickly brushed them away.

“Sorry. I’m leaving on Friday, and I understand how you’re frazzled, but the project is in good hands.”Quinn pressed her lips together, ignoring the knot in her stomach. “I’m prepared, Piper. I’ve got a security contractor lined up for the trip. David Langford from Aegis Force Solutions.”

“Oh, I’m glad you took my advice,” Piper said, sounding relieved. “We’re definitely recommending additional security. Things are tense there, but I’m sure you already know that. If you need anything at all, give me a heads-up. I’m happy to coordinate from our end.”

Quinn ended the call and set the phone down with precision. She was ready, at least, she would be. There was no room for emotion, no time for ghosts.

She clicked the intercom again. “Diane, can you get David Langford on the line, please?”

A moment later, David’s deep voice filled her office. “Quinn, I was about to call you myself. My team’s all set for Friday. I’ll have everything from transport to lodging locked down. As we discussed, I’m on the same flight out, so I can escort you to the airport if that helps.”

“That’d be perfect,” Quinn said, tapping a pen on her desk. “I appreciate the thoroughness, David. Aegis is covering me and my people, right?”

“All of you,” he confirmed. “Nobody travels alone. I’ll see you Friday morning, bright and early.”

When the call ended, Quinn released a silent breath. David’s involvement should have made her feel in control. Should have reassured her that she had the right people in place, that her team could do their jobs without interference. Then why did it feel like she was still bracing for impact? It was nerves. She respected his expertise, trusted his judgment, and he was an ally sanctioned by the State Department. Nothing to worry about.

“See you then.” A flare of sunlight lit her desk, casting a flicker of gold across the court petition. For a moment, it looked like something new was being born. But Quinn wasn’t a myth. She had enemies. One of them was standing on the other side of this fight.

There it was again. That nagging in the back of her mind, and it was getting annoying. She pushed it away with both hands, stubbornly refusing to entertain those thoughts. It’s holding you back from completing the program and from getting that sobriety chip , but the thought of even approaching him, uttering those words, made her freeze inside. Releasing her anger? No, that was too scary. Besides, he’d betrayed her. He’d taken her children.

To save them…from your negligence. Not wanting to accept that thought, she filled with flame.

Yet, the thing that mattered most still wasn’t hers.

But that wasn’t the only reason she felt strong today. She had earned this moment. Not just because of her firm, not just because of the contract she’d landed against bigger, better-established firms.

She had fought through the wreckage of her past, one brutal step at a time.

Six months. The chip would be hers soon. A solid, tangible mark of her fight, a mile marker in her battle with the bottle. It was more than a symbol. It was proof. Proof that she wasn’t that woman anymore. The one who had fallen so far that her children had been taken from her. She also wasn’t Brian’s wife anymore, even if she carried his memory in her heart.

The worst part? He’d been right. That truth scorched her more than any insult ever could. She wanted to hate him, but beneath the burn, bitter and sharp, was a grudging respect. Dagger had protected her boys. Even if it was from her.

She owed him that apology, but something inside her resisted. She didn’t dare examine that something. Because if she did, it would change everything.

She could detect the barest of sound. A deep, rich fluid voice, not demanding, but commanding, and her whole attention shifted to her doorway. Even before Quinn caught a glimpse of him, she sensed the shift in the air. The space around her, usually so heavy with her own tension and restless energy, suddenly felt charged with a subtle coolness. It wasn’t a physical chill, more like a hushed promise that something formidable had entered her orbit. In the quiet thrumming beneath her ribs, was presence unlike any other, calm but potent, a steadiness that seemed to siphon the wild heat from the room. Even before Dagger came fully into view, Quinn knew he was there, moving closer. Every nerve alive with danger, and for a split second, she wavered, as if testing the contours of this unfamiliar, unwavering current. The door to her office opened.

She didn’t flinch, even as he seemed to suck all the air from her lungs. Before she could control herself, Quinn felt as though her rage and passion swirled inside her like a vortex. She could sense the heat of her emotions scorching the air, daring him to come too close. Keeping him at bay felt safer. He couldn’t see the hurt behind her fury if he never breached the fiery perimeter she’d built.

Dagger stood in the doorway, tall and composed, as if he owned the ground he walked on. She’d never gotten used to how silent he could be. One moment, the space was hers. The next, he’d arrived, bringing a sense of steady energy that felt like cool water skimming over burning sand.

Quinn took in the sight of him and had to swallow an unexpected surge of apprehension. His shaggy hair was honey and bark, threaded with subtle copper highlights that caught the light whenever he moved. Pale green eyes the color of sea glass assessed her calmly, the stark color nearly shocking against his tanned skin. His brows were drawn slightly, and for a second, it reminded her of Brian when he was trying to soothe her, manage her emotions with steady hands and soft words. But Dagger’s gaze wasn’t the same. He wasn’t managing anything. He was looking at like he saw her.

Dagger’s thick lashes and slight hook to his nose gave him a rugged appeal. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache framed an enticingly full bottom lip. Beneath his clothes, Quinn knew there was a body honed by real-world training, a Navy SEAL who moved with confidence and lethal ease. His stance was all conqueror, the hot blood of the conquistador moved through his veins, as though it lent him an innate, quiet intensity.

At first, his calm demeanor struck her as an indifferent judgment on everything she was feeling. Had he already dismissed her as too volatile, too wild, too broken? The possibility ignited her anger. Glaring accusations, warnings at him, anything to keep him at arm’s length. If he was here to test her, she’d meet him with raw heat.

But Dagger didn’t counter her aggression with aggression of his own. Instead, he stepped closer with a resolve that unnerved her. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t lash back with violence. When she met his gaze, unyielding yet not unkind, her anger wavered for a split second, and it terrified her how much she wanted to lean into that momentary cool.

“It’s all right,” he said quietly, not stepping away. “You don’t have to keep me at a distance. You never did, Quinn.”

Quinn’s fury coiled tighter. She wanted to know why he would say such a thing. Didn’t he realize how dangerous she was, how quickly she could burn him if he stayed too close? Didn’t he understand that clinging to her anger and Brian’s memory was all she had to keep from collapsing under the weight of her pain?

Still, Dagger remained unmoved, neither scorched nor intimidated. His pale green eyes stayed on hers, strong and steady. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he told her. “I’m glad to know you’re fighting. I’m here to remind you that you don’t have to fight alone.”

A ripple of unease washed over her, almost like a cool breeze against her hot skin. It was one thing for someone to argue back, to hurl her fire straight at her. But to offer acceptance, to let her fury wash over him without judgment... it made Quinn hesitate. For a moment, the heat of her rage faltered, leaving room for a new kind of uncertainty.

She took a step back, still clinging to the protective anger she wore like armor.

“You didn’t have to serve me at the job, Quinn. That was poorly done. That’s my place of duty and the Navy frowns on this type of situation. They expect me to handle my personal life as well as I handle my professional life. You knew that, and you did it anyway.”

Quinn stared at Dagger, her temper bristling all over again. She had done it precisely because it was his place of duty. She’d wanted him off-balance, but oh no, the man was a tight fist in a velvet glove. But as she stood there, she had to grudgingly acknowledge the gravity of what he was saying. His tone was infuriatingly calm, each syllable landing with measured precision.

He radiated that same steady composure he always had, the one that once gave her comfort. It also reminded her, in a painful burst of clarity, why he had taken her children away in the first place. She’d been lost in her pain, drowning in booze, unable to handle her own emotions, an unstable inferno that threatened to consume everything. While she loathed him for it, a discomfiting thread of respect twisted through her anger. He had done what she couldn’t at the time… protect her children.

Steeling her jaw, she shoved the unease aside. “I served you those papers for a reason,” she snapped. “I want my kids back.”

“You can throw all the legal paperwork you want at me, Quinn,” Dagger replied. “That’s not why I’m here.” His voice was low, but it carried the weight of finality. “It’s not about lawyers or courtrooms. This is about us.”

Fresh heat surged through Quinn’s chest. She wanted to lash out with a snide remark, to tell him she did need the court and lawyers, that dealing with him was too volatile. But somehow, the words snagged in her throat. He looked at her with those exacting eyes, steady, assessing, daring her to break the moment with more anger.

A fleeting thought sparked in her mind. What would he be like if he lost this control? If he let that composure slip in real, wild passion? The idea was both electrifying and infuriating.

“How is this about us ?” she pressed, voice clipped. “There’s nothing left between us.”

Dagger lifted his chin slightly, revealing the strong line of his throat. The faint copper highlights in his hair caught the light, and Quinn’s gaze lingered there, recalling how once that color had glinted in sunlight when he smiled. The memory seared her, making her want to retreat into the armor of anger again.

“Your sobriety. Your stability. You and my nephews…that’s between us,” he said. “I’m not handing my nephews back to a mother who’s still battling her own demons. You have to show me you have that under control.”

Her skin prickled at the implication that he had the authority to decide whether she was worthy. It ignited the part of her that burned hottest, that hated being judged, that wanted to rail against any suggestion she might be less than . Yet in the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t entirely about punishment. It was about proving to him , and to herself, that she was capable of standing on her own feet, sober and strong. She couldn’t seem to shake the memory that he was always on her side.

“Who are you to decide that?” Quinn demanded, forcing herself not to waver under his steady gaze.

“I’m the one who had to pick up the pieces when you fell apart,” Dagger answered, calm as ever. But there was a hint of something else in his voice, sadness, maybe. Or regret. “I’m the one who protected them when you couldn’t.”

Every muscle in Quinn’s body tensed at the reminder of how low she’d sunk. She was torn between gratitude and bitterness, and she hated that she owed him both. Her fingernails bit into her palm, and she swallowed the thick lump of shame that rose in her throat. Her anger flared, a protective barrier. “You think I haven’t been fighting? You think I haven’t done the work?” She wanted to list every meeting she’d attended, every nightmare she’d wrestled through without a single drop of alcohol, every time she resisted the urge to crumble. “I’m sober,” she hissed. “I’m damn well trying to stay that way.”

“I know.” His gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering. “That’s why I’m here, Quinn. I want to see you succeed. I’m just not convinced yet that you trust yourself enough to make that final climb out of the fire.”

The silence between them thickened, laden with everything they couldn’t say, past hurts, unspoken apologies, fleeting glimpses of what once had been great affection for her brother-in-law. Quinn could feel her composure unraveling in the heated press of her own indignation, but she also recognized a glimmer of opportunity. Maybe he truly is giving me a chance , she thought. Maybe he’s waiting to see me stand on my own two feet.

She didn’t want to accept that, couldn’t seem to accept that. It still hurt. Quinn couldn’t shake the memory of the day Brian never came home. That hollow ache had taken root inside her the moment she learned he’d died on a mission, one Dagger and his cursed team were also on. That was how Quinn saw it, anyway. Dagger was Brian’s half-brother, the man who claimed to have his back. Now here he stood, alive and composed, while Brian’s laughter and warmth were lost forever. A part of her mind understood that military missions rarely gave neat answers, but another part had latched onto Dagger and his team as the focal point of her pain. If he’d protected his brother, maybe Brian would still be here, holding her, helping raise their children. That bitterness had become her armor, keeping her fury stoked and shielding her from the crushing grief she couldn’t bear to acknowledge

She drew in a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around herself. “You never make anything easy,” she muttered, her pride and resentment warring with a fragile understanding she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Dagger’s expression softened just enough for her to notice. “If I made it easy, it wouldn’t mean anything. You want your children back, Quinn? Show me I’m not making a mistake by bringing them home to you. The only easy day was yesterday.”

She stared at him, the weight of his words pressing on her chest. This was more than any piece of paper a court could serve. This was personal, a deeply tangled cord between the two of them, woven from mistakes, regrets, and a faint glimmer of hope.

Her pulse thudded in her ears, and she wondered if her fire would scorch him in the end, or if she could find a way to burn bright enough to light her path forward without consuming everything she held dear.

Yet in the still moments afterward, when her rage ebbed just enough for her to recognize her own exhaustion, Quinn found herself staring at an invisible wall inside her, a cold, unyielding mental block where her answers should have been. She wanted to move forward, to admit that maybe Dagger wasn’t her enemy, to reconcile the man he was with the brother-in-law she blamed for Brian’s death. But her aching, angry grief still singed every breath she took, reminding her that anger had become the only armor she trusted. The idea of giving him what he needed, her forgiveness, her surrender, her willingness to share her children, felt like it might melt her from the inside out. So, she teetered on the edge, paralyzed by the fear that granting him any sliver of peace would tear down the last barrier protecting her heart, leaving her with nothing but the searing pain she’d been fighting to contain.

Maybe she had to break a little more before she could rebuild. Still lost, she couldn’t find her way there. But when she did, it would be her decision. For a second, one second, her throat tightened. The words tangled in her chest, aching to be spoken. But they were dangerous and too real. Too final. So, she smothered them. She lit them on fire and let them burn.

“I don’t care about what you need, Kade. I’m getting them back regardless of your conviction that this is between us. Once I do, I want you gone from our lives. I never want to see you again. That is what I want, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

A flicker of shock broke Dagger’s composure as Quinn spat her ultimatum. He’d been trained to keep his emotions in check, but he couldn’t stop the hurt that spread through him. Her words cracked their foundation, threatening to overwhelm him in a surge he didn’t know how to control. She was still fighting, but her steps forward included two steps back. She looked much better than the last time he’d seen her. Her honey-brown curls were bouncy instead of matted, her whiskey eyes determined instead of glazed over. Her skin was warm-toned from her biracial heritage, instead of ashen.

He schooled his features, fighting back any outward sign of how thoroughly her words gutted him. She wanted him gone forever ? This woman he’d admired, argued with, and, fuck him, desired for longer than he cared to admit? Worse, she was talking about his nephews, who were in reality his biological sons. The memory of that day came rushing back. Quinn and Brian’s fertility struggles, the late-night confession that Brian couldn’t father children, the request for Dagger’s help. Their boys, truly his blood, but they weren’t meant to be his.

Brian had laughed when he said it. Maybe a couple of kids will keep her home with me, but the words hit Dagger differently now. Back then, it had seemed like a throwaway line. Now, with distance, it felt heavier. Strategic, even. Like Brian hadn’t seen Quinn for who she was, just who he needed her to be.

He tightened his jaw, refusing to let the pain show. SEAL discipline, he reminded himself. Focus on the objective. Protect them. Yet the objective was tangled in that slow-burn attraction he could never fully extinguish. Quinn’s presence lit every corner of the room, pulled at him like a riptide he couldn’t resist. The guilt, that yawning chasm of regret for wanting a woman who’d belonged to his brother, stung like salt water in a raw wound.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice quieter than before. Inside, his emotions roiled, waves colliding with flames, but on the surface, he was calm, ice-cold to her scorching heat. “Don’t pretend you can just cut me out of their lives.” His eyes flicked to her desk where the papers lay, a formal, legal barrier she was building between them. Yet the real wall stood in her gaze, in the fierce glint that told him she’d lock him out if she could.

Even so, he couldn’t abandon her now. He knew better than anyone that anger was Quinn’s shield. The impossible attraction between them buzzed under his skin, a current he didn’t dare indulge. But his instincts warred with his loyalty to Brian’s memory and that irrevocable truth. Quinn needed to keep fighting for a life that wouldn’t destroy her or the boys. No matter how many times she tried to banish him from that path, Dagger couldn’t walk away.

He swallowed hard, tension rippling through his taut frame. “I can’t imagine life without them,” he admitted, voice low. He didn’t say without you , but the words lingered on the tip of his tongue, dangerously close to a line they could never cross. “You want me gone? Prove to me, and more importantly, to yourself, that you’re ready to keep them safe. Then we’ll talk about what happens next.”

His gaze locked on hers. For a strained moment, it felt as though the entire room held its breath. Then, with the faintest incline of his head, he turned on his heel and left her office. He told himself it was just another mission, to keep calm, be strategic, control the battlefield. But with every step, the heat of her words scalded deeper, and he wondered how long his water could hold back her flame before they burned each other out, leaving nothing but ashes.