Page 32 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

A scream rips through the hall, sharp enough to spear my chest.

“Seraphina!” I’m already moving, storming out of Lucian’s office, frantic, my heart pounding with every step.

She bursts from her dressing room at the same time, eyes wide, breath heaving. Relief and concern collide so hard inside me I nearly stumble.

We collide in the middle of the corridor. My hand catches hers, and I hold tight.

“Angel, what?—”

She shoves something into my palm. A picture.

I glance down, and my insides catch fire.

It’s us. Her straddling me in the McLaren, dress bunched around her waist, my hands locked on her hips. Feral, intimate. Someone was there. How?

The edges of my vision go red.

“Drone,” I grit out, every muscle coiled like a tripwire. “Had to be a fucking drone.”

We’re still moving, rushing toward the noise ahead.

The atrium opens up before us, the sound of gasps and murmurs echoing through the vast space. My stomach drops.

Red paint drips in thick, slow rivulets down one wall. Over it, in black spray paint, two words scream out:

TIME’S UP.

The floor is littered with photographs—me and Seraphina. Some are still falling, fluttering like snow from the upper levels of the atrium, tossed down for all to see.

Her face and mine. Our bodies—sprawled open for the world to pick apart.

Around us, Companions, staff, guards—all crowd the railings above, staring down in stunned silence. Lucian’s at the far side of the ground floor, his expression thunderous, already barking orders into his phone.

But the truth is a blade in my gut.

The Ledger has been breached.

And the message is clear—nowhere is safe for her.

I don’t waste a second and whistle once, sharp. Finn knows the call and his eyes snap right to me. “Get her out. Straight to the penthouse.”

Beside me, Seraphina stiffens. “No.”

“Angel—”

“I said no.” She rips her hand from mine, her eyes blazing even as her breath shakes. “You can’t just send me away?—”

I turn on her, chest heaving, fury and fear boiling over. Both my hands come up, cupping her face, forcing her eyes to mine. I kiss her hard, desperate, swallowing her protest before she can finish it.

When I pull back, my forehead rests against hers, my voice raw. “You’re not safe here, baby. He could be in the building right now. Do you hear me? I need you safe so I can hunt him down.”

Her lips tremble against mine. I see the fight in her eyes, see her want to argue again. But after a long beat, she exhales, shoulders slumping just enough.

“I don’t like it,” she whispers.

“I don’t either,” I tell her, my thumb brushing her cheek. “But I can’t protect you and chase him at the same time. Please, angel. Let me breathe knowing you’re out of his reach.”

She nods once, sharp, her throat working. And I finally exhale, a tense, shallow relief.

“Finn.” My voice cracks across the atrium. My second is already moving, snapping commands at the guards. They close in around her, ushering her toward the side entrance. My chest clenches when she disappears from view, but I shove it down. She’s safe. That’s all that matters.

Lucian steps to my side, his expression carved from granite. Together, we herd the Companions, staff, and on-duty guards into the main conference room. Faces pale, whispers sharp, everyone looking for answers they’ve never been given.

I plant my hands on the table, scanning every one of them. “We can’t keep this quiet any longer, so you may as well know.” My voice is steady, even as my blood still burns. “Seraphina has had a stalker. We’ve been hunting him, closing in. And now he’s escalating.”

The room is silent, all eyes locked on me.

Lucian takes over, his presence filling the space. “You’ve seen the proof. He’s bold, reckless. That makes him dangerous. Which means until he’s caught, every single one of you needs to be vigilant.”

I add, “Safe routes. Security checks. If you see something, you don’t question it—you report it. Immediately.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. Then slowly, one by one, the Companions nod. The staff. The guards. Every face in the room hardens with seriousness.

The weight of it sinks into the room, heavy and sharp. Faces harden, fear tempered with resolve. They understand now—every single one of them—that this isn’t rumor or paranoia. This is real, and it’s in our walls.

That’s enough for tonight. We’ve put them on guard. And the rest? That’s on us.

The staff and Companions file out, voices hushed, heads bent together in tight whispers as they disappear into the hall.

Lucian’s already pulling out his phone, pacing toward the head of the table. He taps once and waits.

The line clicks, and Jaxon Kane’s voice comes through, dry as ever. “Well, well. For you to call me this early, it must be the end of days.”

Lucian doesn’t rise to the bait. His tone is iron. “There’s a problem.”

Something in his voice wipes the sarcasm clean. “What do you need?” Jaxon asks, sharp now.

“I need to know how someone got around our security. Tonight, Seraphina’s dressing room was vandalized.

Then the atrium. Red paint, pictures—he left a fucking show for us.

” Lucian’s eyes cut to me, then back to the phone.

“I want everything, Jax. How he did it. Who let him in. When. Where. If someone so much as blinked at the wrong moment, I want a name.”

The room is quiet except for Lucian’s low, controlled fury.

Because this isn’t just about Seraphina anymore. The bastard walked into the heart of the Ledger and left his mark.

Declared war. And we’re going to find out exactly how. And we’re going to answer it.

Fifteen minutes crawl by, every one of them dragging nails down my spine. I check my watch, then my phone. Over and over. Like either will give me something I need—her voice, her face, proof she’s fine. Nothing.

Jax keeps talking as he works, his tone clipped, focus razor-sharp. “Someone slipped a device into your building. Blacked out everything—cell signals, cameras, sensors. But it spoofed the feeds to look like everything was running. No alarms. No alerts.”

My jaw tightens. “How long?”

“Minutes. No more. Had to be when the atrium was hit. But…” He exhales through his nose, frustrated. “Her room could’ve been trashed hours ago. Days, even.”

I grit my teeth so hard my molars ache.

“I’ll put my AI over it. Run full analysis on the body language of your security. If anyone slipped, twitched, looked the wrong way—I’ll find the anomaly?—”

He cuts off mid-sentence. Silence stretches.

Lucian and I snap to alert at once.

“What?” Lucian’s voice is low, lethal.

For a long second, nothing. Then Jax’s voice comes back, tight, grim. “Seraphina’s building just went dark.”

The words hit like a gunshot.

My blood runs ice-cold, then hotter than fire.

“Fuck.” My chair scrapes back hard, my hand already on my gun checking the clip, heart hammering like it’s trying to crack my ribs open. “I’m going to her.”

I’m a ball of fire tearing through the city, weaving through traffic, horn blaring, every red light nothing but an obstacle I don’t see. My grip on the wheel aches, my knuckles white, my mind a reel of a million worst-case scenarios I can’t shut off.

I call my men. No answer. I call her cell. Nothing. The silence on the other end guts me. I slam the heel of my hand against the steering wheel, the sound ringing sharp in the car.

Jaxon’s voice is in my ear, steady, precise. “Building’s still dark. No signals. No cameras.”

“Fuck!” I roar, shoving the accelerator to the floor.

My car flies into her building’s valet area, tires screaming as I slam it into park. I don’t wait for the keys to be taken—just bolt inside, hammering the call button for her private elevator over and over like that’ll make it faster.

The ride up feels endless, though it’s less than a minute. Every tick of the floor counter another nail through my chest.

The doors finally open. One of my men stands outside her door, calm as ever—until he sees my face. His spine straightens, hand twitching toward his weapon.

“She in there?” I nearly scream it, shoving past him before he can answer.

The door bangs against the wall as I storm inside.

And there she is.

Seraphina jumps, startled, shoulders jerking at the sound. But she’s whole. Untouched. Just standing at her stove, kettle in hand, steam curling up as she pours water for tea.

“Jesus, Killian.”

My lungs seize. Relief and fury collide so hard my knees nearly buckle.

“Building just came back up,” Jaxon’s voice cuts through my earpiece. “I’ll stay on this. You stay with your girl.”

I breathe hard, too hard, sliding down the wall until I hit the floor. My palms press against my eyes, pushing hard, like I can force the last five minutes out of my skull. The earpiece dangles loose until I rip it free and let it fall, clattering uselessly to the ground.

At the stove, her soft voice floats through the kitchen, casual, teasing. “Aw, were you worried about me, big man?”

She doesn’t see me breaking. Doesn’t hear the crack in my chest.

“Worried?” The word comes out shredded, my voice nothing but gravel.

That sound—broken, not me—snaps her attention around. She spins, blue eyes wide, kettle forgotten on the counter.

“Killian?”

“Your systems went down,” I rasp, forcing the words out through my throat. “I couldn’t see you. I didn’t know…” My voice gives out, jagged silence tearing through me.

I drag my eyes to hers, raw and unguarded.

“Worried? I was fucking gutted, Seraphina.”

I don’t mean for it to happen.

But the burn in my chest snaps, and before I can stop it, a single tear tracks hot down my cheek.

Her breath hitches. She sees me breaking.

“Killian…” Her voice is low, careful, like she’s approaching a wild animal ready to lash out.

She comes closer, slow, hands lifted, eyes wide. “I’m here. I’m okay. You hear me? I’m okay.”

My back presses against the wall as if I could disappear into it, shame clawing at me for falling apart in front of her. But then she’s there—sliding into my lap, wrapping herself around me like she belongs there.

And fuck, she does.

Her arms anchor me, her heartbeat pounding against my chest. She presses her cheek to mine, letting me breathe her in—soap, tea, the sweetness that’s all her.

Her lips brush the tear’s salty path, and then her eyes lock on mine. Blue and endless. Pulling me back from the void that almost swallowed me whole just now.

Something inside me breaks open, everything I’ve been holding back, everything I’ve been burying under duty and silence. It spills out, unrestrained.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” I rasp, voice hoarse. “Christ, I’ve tried. Told myself this was a job. That I was just here to protect you. But it’s a lie, angel. All of it.”

Her fingers thread into my hair, her touch trembling but steady.

“I don’t want to just guard you. I don’t want to just fuck you.

I want you. Every stubborn, beautiful, infuriating part of you.

” My chest heaves, raw with it. “I want nights where I fall asleep with you in my arms. Mornings where you steal the covers. I want the fights, the laughter, the goddamn forever. Only you. No one else. Never anyone else.”

The last word tears out of me like a vow.

For a second, I can’t breathe. Can’t take back what I’ve said. Can’t protect myself if she pushes me away.

Her answer comes first in her body—her mouth crashing against mine, desperate, claiming, her hands fisting in my shirt like she’ll never let me go. The kiss is wet, salty from my tears and hers, but it’s fierce, a brand seared into my soul.

When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against mine, breath shaking.

“Killian Shaw,” she whispers, eyes shining as a smile breaks out on her beautiful face, “are you trying to tell me you love me?”

And just like that, I’m undone all over again—but this time, it’s not despair dragging me under. It’s her.