Page 2 of Gabriel

My stepbrother, Jetmir—or just Jet. The name could land like a warning or a dare, depending on the day.

What is he doing here?I thought to myself.

He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the state of Connecticut. Jet and Elira finished their studies in Europe, their Volkov heritage not exactly welcomed in many territories across the East Coast.

And yet, Jet was here, wearing his usual black suit, crisp and tailored, standing out among the crowd with his tall frame and powerful stride. Confidence hung off him like smoke, as did that familiar scent of trouble.

I stood unblinking, seconds dragging, before I turned back to my friend.

“I think I saw someone,” I signed and spoke at the same time, leaning closer to Skye.

She tilted her head, then signed back. “Who?”

“Not sure, but I’ll be right back. Will you be okay?”

She gestured to an empty booth, a faint smile touching her lips.

“I’m a big girl. You go ahead. I’ll wait for you and Pen here,” she signed.

There was no telling how long Penelope would be tangled up with her stranger, but I nodded all the same. This place wascrawling with both security camerasandarmed guards; she’d be safe here.

I slipped into the crowd, people pressing against one another like shadows melting together. Their perfume, the heat, the quiet moans mingling in the fray… it all clung to me like a second skin.

“Get a grip, freaks,” I muttered under my breath, pushing past a couple who were so entangled I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. They stumbled into me in their frenzy, and I had half a mind to elbow the guy in the ribs, but that would attract attention I didn’t need.

I kept my pace measured as I made a beeline for the side door Jet had disappeared through. Once the door shut behind me, the music muffled as I pushed through a narrow hallway that ran parallel to the main floor. The air here was cooler, quieter, but it carried the sharp tang of disinfectant, cigarette smoke, and passion. A different world from the sticky, alcohol-fueled chaos of the usual clubs in the city.

Unable to find him, I spotted a set of stairs, and an idea struck. If I climbed up, I’d have a bird’s-eye view and could spot him easier. I started to climb the steel staircase, careful not to get my heels stuck in the little holes. I paused, peering around the top of the landing.

And then I spotted him.

Jet stood at the end of the hallway by the exit, the soft glow of the sign throwing shadows on his dangerous frame.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, his face illuminated as he scrolled on his phone. Beside him was a man dressed in a sharp suit that whispered money and style, his face was completely swallowed by shadows.

I leaned forward, squinting my eyes, hoping to catch any details about the stranger, but it was too dark. I cursed my nearsightedness.

Their discussion turned heated, the words bitten out sharply, but I couldn’t make out anything more from this distance.

The man suddenly turned and disappeared down a separate hallway without looking back, his stride angry.

Jet lingered a moment longer, his head tilting up, and surprise flickered across his face.Shit.

Seconds ticked by and I waited with bated breath.

Then he nodded slowly, giving me that familiar, calculated smile as he lifted a hand in a casual wave before slipping through the emergency exit door, a gust of winter air traveling toward me and cooling my skin.

As the door slammed shut behind him, I stood still, my thoughts a mess of unanswered questions.What the hell was he doing here? And what was that smile about?

When the hallway remained empty, I exhaled, pressing the heel of my hand to my chest to steady my breathing.

Making my way back down the stairs, careful that my heels didn’t catch and send me tumbling down, I reached the main floor.

This time, the scent of sandalwood and sharp citrus—a cologne I’d never admit I instantly recognized—enveloped me.

The click of polished leather shoes followed.

Dammit.