Page 7 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Five

V ictoria swirled her coffee, staring at the city as the morning sun climbed higher. The skyline stretched before her, but the weight in her chest refused to lift. Locke . The name she’d never been able to escape.

Her phone buzzed against the counter. Detective Adams?

“You don’t usually call before breakfast,” she answered.

A low sigh crackled through the line. “Cassian Locke is moving money. Fast. He’s searching for something, and my sources say he’s getting close.”

Victoria’s grip tightened on the mug.

“He knows you’re in town,” Adams continued. “Doesn’t know what you look like yet.”

Her stomach twisted. Yet .

“Tell me you’re staying clear of this.”

She smirked, lifting the coffee to her lips. Funny. Considering I just met his sons last night. “I don’t go looking for trouble,” she said instead.

Adams gave a dry, humorless laugh. “You don’t have to. It finds you.” Silence stretched between them.Then, lower. “You were collateral damage once. Don’t let it happen again.”

Victoria exhaled, gaze fixed on the city. “Noted.” But they both knew she wasn’t listening.

Adams sighed. “Be careful, kid.”

She hung up first.

“Hey, Grace, I know you’re about to finish your shift. Want to grab a bite?” Taylor asked, her dark hair in a messy bun that still looked effortless after a grueling shift. She slid the iPads into their charging dock for the next shift.

Victoria hesitated, her hand on her bag. She’s been at the hospital for a month, and she barely knew anyone. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a break. She smiled. “You know what? That sounds great… though I probably look a mess.”

Taylor shot her a playful grin. “You look beautiful,maybe just add some lip gloss,” she teased, winking. “There’s a great spot near the hospital. Let me grab my stuff, and we can walk there.”

About twenty minutes later, they were in a cozy booth. Taylor leaned back with a grin. “Alright, Grace, you know all about my music preferences. Now, it’s my turn. What’s your story?”

Victoria smiled, appreciating Taylor's straightforwardness.

"I moved away when I was fifteen, right after my dad died. I didn’t have any family left to stay with, my mom was never really in the picture.

Been back in the city for a little while now.

I've only been a midwife for about eight months, but I’ve been working in hospitals since I was sixteen.

Took a while, but I finally earned my DNP. "

Taylor’s eyes widened with admiration. “That’s seriously impressive. You’ve been at this for a while.”

“Yeah,” Victoria replied, her tone lightening a bit. “It was a lot of work, but I love it.”

Taylor’s expression softened. “I’m sorry about your dad. That must have been tough.”

“It was,” Victoria admitted, her voice tightening. She quickly changed the subject, not wanting to reveal too much about her complicated life. “But what about you, Taylor? Got any family around here?”

Taylor leaned back, her smile widening. “Well, I’m twenty-four, a Leo, and I’ve got two older brothers, but they’re off doing their own thing, so I don’t see them much.

And I’m single, which just means I get to have more fun meeting new people…

and indulging in my love for motorcycles.

” She gave a playful wink and pulled out her phone.

“Check this out—my Kawasaki Ninja 400. His name is Felix.”

She showed Victoria a picture of a sleek, light purple bike, with Taylor posed beside it in a leather jacket and pants, her helmet hanging off the handlebars, looking like she belonged in a motorcycle ad.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow, are you secretly auditioning for a modeling gig? That bike is impressive.”

Taylor laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I’d like to think I could pull it off! But honestly, the bike does all the work.”

Victoria chuckled. “Still, that’s way more daring than anything I do. I mean, I stick to safer hobbies.”

Taylor shot her a teasing look. “Says the world champion fighter! I looked you up, by the way. That’s not exactly playing it safe. So, how’d you end up in the ring?”

Victoria shrugged, fiddling with the edge of her napkin. "My dad was a trainer, a top fighter in his prime. I started young, and it just… clicked for me. Fighting helps me focus, you know? After he died, I had to leave the city. Boxing kept me grounded."

Taylor's expression softened. “I’m sorry for your loss, Grace.”

Victoria offered a small smile. “It’s okay, it was a long time ago.”

Taylor nodded, then raised an eyebrow with a grin. “So, are you planning to get back into boxing here?”

Victoria laughed, shaking her head. “You’re funny. Imagine me delivering a baby with black eyes and busted eyebrows. Real comforting.”

The girls erupted into laughter, their bodies leaning into each other, the sound light and carefree until the unmistakable rhythm of footsteps sliced through the air, halting the moment in its tracks.

Tristan strode into the room, each step deliberate, his presence so powerful that it made every nerve in Victoria's body flare to life. He moved as though the world was his to command. Unhurried. Magnetic. Tyson trailed behind, but it was Tristan who drew the eye, owning the space with every step.

Victoria’s breath hitched in her throat, her body instinctively tense as she fought to maintain her composure.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Her fingers tightened around her water bottle, the plastic crinkling beneath her grip as she ducked her head, but not fast enough.

Guess we’re going with my drunk plan.

She didn’t need to turn. She felt his gaze. A slow, heated weight pressing against her skin, setting her nerves on edge. And when her eyes finally locked with Tristan’s, the noise around her faded.

The air thickened. Her pulse betrayed her cool facade.

Oh, great.

She muttered the words under her breath, reaching for any semblance of normalcy.

Taylor leaned in, her grin full of mischief. "Friend of yours?"

Victoria huffed, her stare never wavering from Tristan’s.

"No," she said flatly, taking a slow sip of water. "Just some arrogant asshat I met at the gym."

Taylor's eyes flicked between them, intrigue sparking. “Huh. Arrogant asshat’s got a nice face.”

Victoria didn’t respond because Tristan was already moving.

Straight. For. Her.

Tristan's smile widened, as if he could hear every word, his gaze never leaving hers.

As Victoria turns back to Taylor, trying to act casual, Tristan decides to make his move.

“Arrogant asshat, huh?” Tristan says, sliding into the booth next to Victoria without waiting for an invitation. “I’m flattered you’ve been talking about me.”

Victoria’s eyes narrow, but there’s a spark of amusement. “Only when I need a good laugh,” she shoots back, not missing a beat.

Tristan leans in closer, his presence radiating confidence and challenge. “Glad I could be of service, then.” His voice is low, almost a purr, and Victoria feels her heart beat faster despite herself.

Tyson immediately grabbed Tristan’s arm, pulling him back with a stern expression. "Enough," he muttered, his voice low but commanding.

Tristan chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Just making conversation, Tyson. Not my fault if she’s... easily intrigued." He winked at Victoria, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Tyson’s gaze shifted to Victoria, his expression unreadable, his silence speaking volumes. "Apologies," he said simply, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes lingered on her, dark and searching, before he turned back to Tristan.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, still smirking. "I guess you have to keep him in line a lot, huh?" she teased, glancing between the brothers.

Tyson’s lips barely twitched, a ghost of a smile flickering before he turned away, his silence speaking volumes. The brothers headed for the bar, blending into a small group of guys already gathered there.

Victoria’s gaze lingered on Tristan, unable to ignore the way his black tee clung to his lean, muscular frame. As if sensing her thoughts, Tristan’s eyes met hers, a knowing look that made her pulse quicken.

Taylor nudged her back to reality with a sly smile. “I don’t know what that’s about but,” she teased, “homeboy is pretty skilled at getting under your skin.”

Victoria gave a small, uncomfortable laugh as she stood up. “I need a drink, you?”

Taylor, still giggling, nodded. “Sure. Hey, I’ll meet you over at the pool tables. Let’s break a few.”

Victoria and Taylor made their way over to the pool table, hoping to shake off the tension.

As Taylor set up the balls, Victoria’s gaze wandered back toward the bar, where Tristan and Tyson stood with some other guys.

Tristan's eyes were already on her, his stare hot and heavy, like a dare she wasn't sure she wanted to take but couldn’t resist. Tyson, on the other hand, was quieter, more enigmatic.

For a moment, their eyes met, and she felt a strange tug, something unspoken flickering in his dark eyes before he looked away.

It was unsettling… and a little intriguing.

Taylor nudged her playfully. “Seriously, Grace? You’re already distracted, and we haven't even started.”

Victoria shrugged, trying to mask the flush on her cheeks. “Maybe I’m just plotting how I’m going to crush you.”

Taylor laughed. “Good luck with that. I’m not as easy to beat as I look.”

Before Victoria could respond, Tristan sauntered over, a cocky grin on his face.

Her grip tightened around her bottle. He’s the enemy.

“Can I join?” His voice was smooth, laced with amusement. “I promise I’ll play fair… if you’re nice.”

Victoria turned to him, arching a brow as her lips curved into a sly smile. A mask. A game. Stay in control.

“Fair doesn’t exactly scream your style.”

He leaned in, close enough that she caught the faintest trace of his cologne. Smoky, sharp, and intoxicating. Damn he smells good.

Her pulse skipped. No. Fuck that.

“Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention,” he murmured.

Victoria’s stomach twisted, fury bubbling beneath the surface. I shouldn’t be entertaining this. I should be slamming my drink in his face, walking away.

But instead, she stood her ground, matching his intensity with a cool, calculated expression.

Taylor, oblivious to the war raging inside her, grinned. “Why don’t you two play together? I'll even referee to keep it fair.” She winked, clearly enjoying the show.

Victoria barely heard her, too focused on the weight of Tristan’s stare. Assessing, teasing, as if he knew exactly how to push her buttons.

His lips curled. “I like the sound of that. But let’s make it interesting, Grace. Winner gets whatever they want.”

She should shut it down. It felt more like a trap more than a challenge. Walk away, damn it. Hate him. Hate him.

Instead, she tilted her head, smirking. “And what exactly do you think you’re going to win?”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “That depends… what are you willing to lose?”

A shiver ran down her spine, but she fought to keep her composure. She couldn’t let herself slip, couldn’t let him get under her skin. The fucking audacity. It made her blood boil.

“Not much of a gambler, Tristan. I only bet when the odds are stacked in my favor.”

His smirk deepened, and she wanted to slap it right off his face. “Well, sweetheart, you’re looking at one.”

God, why does he have to be so fucking confident? She clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to respond, to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.

Taylor clapped her hands, cutting through the tension. “Alright, enough of the flirting. Let's see if either of you can actually back up all that talk.” She handed Victoria a cue stick and tossed one to Tristan. “Game on.”

Tristan didn’t take his eyes off her as he grabbed his stick, and it made her insides twist in that familiar way, like a knot tightening.

“Ladies first,” he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes, like he knew exactly the fight happening inside her.

Victoria stepped up to the table, deliberately bending over a little more than necessary as she lined up her shot, trying to block out the weight of his gaze.

Don’t miss, don’t miss. She sank the first ball with a sharp crack, her confidence unwavering.

Tristan chuckled, stepping closer. “Nice form. But I’ve got a few moves of my own. ”

But when she turned, their faces were inches apart, and she had to force herself to stay calm.

“I’m sure you do, but I doubt they’re anything I haven’t seen before.”

His eyes darkened, and his voice thickened with challenge. “You’d be surprised, Grace. I’m full of firsts.”

God, I hate him.

Taylor broke in, amused. “Are you two going to play, or just eye-fuck each other all night?”

Victoria looked back at Taylor with daggers in her eyes before turning back with a dry laugh. “Eye-fuck all night? Please. Game on, Tristan. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Taylor laughed in the background before choking on her drink.

“Serves you right,” Victoria said, looking at Taylor and slowly turning her gaze to Tristan.

Tristan took his turn, brushing past her as he lined up his shot. His arm brushed hers, lingering just enough for her to feel the heat from his body.

He sank the ball effortlessly, smooth, like everything he did was calculated to make her lose her cool. But his eyes never left hers, and she couldn’t escape the weight of his stare.

When he straightened, his lips curled into a slow, confident grin. “You’ve got a lot of fire, Grace. I like that.”

Her posture remained casual, but inside, her nerves were rattling. No. You don’t get to like me like that. She leaned back, meeting his gaze with a challenge of her own. “Careful, Tristan. You might get burned.”

His grin deepened as he moved closer, just enough to close the space between them. No. Not now. His breath was warm against her ear, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe I like playing with fire.”

FUCK.

Her stomach twisted, fury rising in her chest. He can’t have this hold on you. He’s not worth it. Stay strong. But as much as she wanted to throw herself at him or push him away, she stayed frozen, caught between desire and anger.

From the sidelines, Tyson watched, his face unreadable. But when Victoria glanced his way, there was something in his eyes, something that made her stomach flip. Nope. Nope Victoria. You need to call Detective Adams.

Taylor leaned closer to him, whispering, “They’re either going to end up killing each other or… something else.”

Tyson gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Or both.”

The air between them crackled with tension. And even though Victoria knew she was playing a dangerous game, a part of her was thrilled at the challenge and the tension in the air. She hated him. She needed to hate him.

But as she watched Tristan’s intense, focused gaze, she realized… I’m over my head.