Page 108 of Velvet Corruption

My mind scrambled to make sense of it—Julian? Alek?

No. That wasn’t right.

But there was no time to process it. No time to think.

His hands wrapped around my throat.

Tight. Unforgiving.

The pressure closed in fast. My lungs clawed for air. The world went quiet at the edges, muffled and distant. My legs kicked. My fingers scrambled for leverage, for anything, but he had me pinned. The floor was cold. My vision spotted. The edges of the world began to bleed into shadow.

He was going to kill me.

He’d waited. Watched. Followed. And now he thought I was alone. He thought this was justice. Thought this was his moment.

And maybe it was.

My strength was failing. My limbs were leaden. Every breath was a war I was losing.

But just before the dark pulled me under—

Just before the blackness swallowed me whole—

I thought of him.

Not Julian. Not Alek.

Kieran.

I had told him to stay away. Swore I never wanted to see him again. Said it so many times I almost believed it.

But he always came.

Every time.

And as the world faded, as Mickey Russell leaned in with death on his breath, all I could do was pray—

Please. Let him come this time too.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Kieran

Ruby had fucking won.

And I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Not because she wanted me here—but because someone had to be. Because she was too stubborn to realize what kind of danger she was in now. Because if I wasn’t here, Tristan would be. And if Tristan got to her first, I wasn’t sure either of us would survive it.

The city was still buzzing from her win, but this street was quiet, her brownstone dark. Everyone else had gone to sleep thinking this was just the beginning of a new era. They didn’t know what came next.

I did.

I sat behind the wheel, engine off, my fingers curled against the leather like I was ready to launch. My gaze stayed fixed on the windows. She was probably asleep by now. Or lying awake, thinking she was safe. Thinking it was over.

It wasn’t.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. Tristan wasn’t going to let this slide. He wouldn’t get angry—not yet. He’d get strategic. And when he did, he’d send someone. Someone efficient. Someone lethal.

Unless I got to her first.