Page 72 of The Final Contract

He spent a long night at my side once, wiring a building under construction to blow—along with a parking deck packed with luxury cars owned by crooked politicians.

“Who’s blowing up penthouses?” Eve’s voice cuts through. She strolls in like she owns the place, immediately plucking a pastry off the tray. Finn’s already pouring her a cup of coffee, attentive as ever.

“Unfortunately, no one,” I answer dryly.

Sera returns then, hair wrapped in a towel, the scent of soap clinging to her. Since Eve’s stolen her seat, she takes the onenext to me. Too close. Or maybe not close enough. Neither of us makes a move to shift.

Lucian’s tone turns flat. “Your stalker trashed Hall’s car last night.”

Her mouth falls open, eyes snapping to me. I try to school my expression, but the ghost of a smirk slips free.

She tsks, elbowing me with a whispered, “Behave.”

If only she knew what that word does to me.

We both remember the night I came to get her from Barrett Hall’s penthouse—the way she pushed, the way I pushed right back until she came apart on my hand, pink-cheeked and gasping in that bathroom. My cock throbs just thinking about it.

Across the table, Eve watches too closely, lips curling when her gaze locks with mine. Mischief lights her stare. “Well, if the stalker didn’t show, seems another date is in order.”

“No,” Sera and I snap at the same time.

Eve grins like a cat that’s cornered two birds.

Sera shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter if I’m on dates or going to the gym. He tries to get to me. Suitors aren’t important anymore.”

My heart stutters, then races.

She doesn’t elaborate, but I want her to. Christ, I want her to—to say she’s abandoning this final-contract nonsense altogether.

But a darker thought gnaws at me: maybe she only means to postpone it until the stalker’s dealt with. Maybe I’m just a good fuck—not the man she sees standing at her side for the rest of her life.

The idea cuts deep. Deeper than I want to admit. And I swallow it down like poison.

“We’ve got a plan for your niece’s party.” Sera worries about endangering her family, but I’ve thought of that.

“Finn’ll take one of the girls out—blonde, close enough to pass for you from a distance. He’ll make sure eyes follow the decoy. Meanwhile, you and I slip out clean. We’ll be in Stamford before they’ve even cut the cake.”

She bites her lip, still unsure.

“You can trust us, angel.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “I’m sending two plainclothes guards ahead tonight. They’ll blend in, keep an eye on the place. Stay through the party, leave the morning after. No one’s laying a hand on your family.”

Her shoulders loosen just enough to tell me she believes me. Then she gives me that small, grateful smile that always hits like a punch to the chest.

“Thank you,” she says, slipping her hand over mine. She holds it there longer than she should, squeezes once before letting go. Clears her throat and looks away, like the pink rising in her cheeks might give her away.

I drag in a slow breath, because every instinct in me wants to pull her hand back and never let it go.

Eve’s been locked in on Sera and me—sharp eyes cutting between every look we’ve let slip. I know she’s putting together what Lucian already has.

Lucian’s half distracted, grinning down at his phone in a way that says it’s his woman on the other end. Eve catches it too and rolls her eyes. “I’m getting out of here before I lose my appetite for the rest of the day.”

Sera pouts faintly. “I wanted a workout buddy.”

“You stay, Eve. I’m headed out anyway.” I push to my feet, asking Finn, “You can handle point today?”

He nods without hesitation.

“You’re leaving?” Sera’s disappointment flashes—maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I’m not. God, I hope not.