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Rowan watched the shock hit like a blow, rippling across his face, freezing him in place. His blue eyes widened—not just in disbelief, but with something worse.

Oh, God.

He hated her.

For a long, suffocating moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

Then his jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he took a step back.

Away from her.

“Me,” he said, his voice flat, emotionless in a way that made her stomach knot. “You were hired to kill me.”

She nodded, her throat tight. “Yes.”

“So when you came here at Christmas…”

She remembered that night so clearly, the last night they’d spent together. The way he’d felt beneath her hands, the taste of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing. He’d been so surly after returning from his family’s party, his lip split from Cade punching him, and he’d taken his bad mood out on her in all the best possible ways. And, yes, she’d shamelessly used sex as a distraction because that was also the night her father hired WSW to find her, and she’d been so afraid he’d take her back to Dad’s compound in Wyoming. She’d tied him to his bed with Christmas lights and slipped out while he shouted at her to come back.

“I was supposed to do it that night,” she admitted quietly. “It was my second chance.”

His eyes almost bugged out of his head. “ Second ? What was the first?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet his eyes as shame burned up the back of her neck. “Your parents’ Fourth of July barbecue last summer.”

“You’ve been planning to kill me for six months ?”

“No.” She winced as she pushed off the wall. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain from her injuries was setting in again. “I mean, yes, technically, I was supposed to be planning it. I was supposed to do it before you took control of Wilde Security. But I already knew I wouldn’t. Both times.”

Davey’s expression was unreadable. “So instead of killing me, you fucked me. Both times.”

She flinched at his harsh tone. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” he demanded, his voice rising. “A couple nights of mind-blowing sex and suddenly you decided to grow a conscience and not to kill me? How romantic.”

“It wasn’t just the sex,” Rowan snapped, the frustration spiking into something dangerously close to heartbreak. “It was you, you idiot.”

God, why couldn’t he see it?

“The way you look at me, like I’m more than just a body to warm your bed.”

Like I matter. Like I’m worth something.

“The way you hold me after, like you never want to let go.” Her breath hitched, but she refused to let the words die in her throat. “It’s never been just sex between us, and you know it. That’s why I took the job in the first place. I never planned to kill you. I took it to protect you. And now, because I didn’t do it, they’re coming after me and threatening my family.”

His laugh wasn’t really a laugh. It was sharp, jagged, more like a broken edge of glass.

Her stomach twisted. She had expected the anger, the betrayal. But this? This cold, distant, hollow sound—this was worse.

“ Protect me?” His voice was softer now but all the more dangerous for it. “By accepting a hit on me? That’s some twisted logic, Ro.”

“I knew if I didn’t take the job, they’d just hire someone else. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head. At least with me, I could control the situation, buy some time to figure out who was behind it and why.”

“You don’t know who hired you?”

“No. The job came through an intermediary.” She raised a hand to touch him, but he knocked it away and put the length of the room between them.

“Don’t. You’re gonna have to give me a minute here because I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that the woman I love was hired to kill me. I mean… fuck!”

She stayed back and watched him pace, noting his limp was more pronounced than usual.

Finally, he stopped moving and let out a humorless laugh. “Jesus Christ, Ro. You really know how to fuck things up, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” She stepped into his space and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You should be thanking me.”

Davey’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Thanking you? For what, exactly? For not killing me? For lying to me for months?”

Rowan’s finger curled into a fist against his chest. “For saving your life, you ungrateful bastard. If I hadn’t taken that contract, you’d be dead right now.”

“You should have told me.”

She scoffed. “Oh, sure, that would have gone over well. ‘Hey Davey, just so you know, someone wants you dead and hired me to do it. But don’t worry, I’m not going to follow through. Want to grab dinner and fuck?’”

Davey ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every tense line of his body. “At least I would have known there was a threat. I could have protected myself. Instead, I’ve been walking around with a target on my back for months, completely oblivious.”

“And what would you have done if I had? Gone charging in like some alphahole to save the day? You would have gotten yourself killed, and then all of this would have been for nothing.”

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from his chest. “That wasn’t your call to make. I had a right to know someone wants me dead.”

“And now you know,” she shot back. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he growled. His eyes blazed, his fingers flexing at his sides. His breathing was rough, uneven, like he was fighting something inside himself.

Then, all at once, he stopped fighting.

His grip on her wrist tightened, hard enough to steal her breath, and he yanked her against him. Before she could react, his mouth crashed down on hers in a bruising kiss. Rowan gasped in surprise but quickly melted into him, her free hand fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

The kiss was all teeth and tongues, a clash of anger and passion. Davey’s hands roamed her body roughly, pulling her impossibly closer as if he could erase the lies and betrayal with the force of his touch.

She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. The pain from her injuries faded to a dull throb, overwhelmed by the heat of Davey’s touch. She bit his lower lip, drawing a growl from deep in his throat.

Suddenly, Davey broke the kiss and spun her around, pinning her against the wall with his body. He delved a hand under the oversized t-shirt and stroked between her legs.

“You’re going to tell me everything, Ro.” His breath was hot against her ear, his voice low and dangerous. “Every detail about this contract, who might be behind it, and why they want me dead.”

“I don’t know much,” she gasped, arching against him as he teased her clit. “The job came through an anonymous broker. All I know is that someone powerful wants you out of the picture before you can fully take control of Wilde Security.”

He shoved a finger into her as if punishing her, and then another, and a third until she was stretched and her knees nearly gave out from the intense mix of pleasure and pain. His fingers curled inside her, finding that spot that made her see stars.

“Not good enough,” he growled. “I need names, Rowan. Who’s the broker?”

She gasped, struggling to form coherent thoughts as he worked her mercilessly. “I don’t…I can’t...”

He stilled his hand, denying her the friction she craved. “Try harder.”

Frustrated tears pricked her eyes. “Dammit, Davey. I don’t know names. That’s the whole point of using brokers.”

His thumb circled her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her core. “Then give me something I can use. Anything.”

She racked her brain, desperate for information that might satisfy him. “The money…it came through a shell company. Kryos Solutions.”

His fingers resumed their torturous rhythm, drawing a moan from her lips.

“Kryos Solutions,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble against her ear. “That’s a start. What else?”

She tried to focus through the haze of pleasure and pain. “The... the contract. It specified you had to die before the end of last year. Before you officially took over Wilde Security.”

His hand stilled again, and Rowan bit back a frustrated groan.

“Why?” he demanded. “What changes when I take over?”

“I don’t know,” she gasped. “But it must be significant if someone’s willing to pay this much to prevent it.”

Davey’s free hand came up to grip her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze over her shoulder. His blue eyes were dark with a mix of lust and anger, and she could feel the hard ridge of his cock against her ass. “What else?”

She shook her head, barely able to form words. “Nothing... that’s all I know. Please, Davey...”

He nipped at her earlobe. “Please, what?”

“Let me come,” she gasped and reached down between her legs, desperate to finish the job herself. “God, please let me come.”

He slapped her hand away, and his eyes bored into hers, searching for any hint of deception. “How much?”

“Two million. Half up front, half when the job was done.”

His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment. “Jesus. Christ. Where’s the money they already paid?”

“I donated it to a women’s shelter. I never wanted it.”

“Why?”

“I told you,” she said, her voice husky with need. “It was never just sex.”

Something flickered in Davey’s eyes— a softening, a hint of the tenderness she’d seen before. But it was quickly replaced by steely determination.

“We’re not done here,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He kicked her legs apart, and she heard the rasp of his zipper. “But right now, I need to fuck you.”

She didn’t protest. She was aching for him. She constantly ached for him, and that was part of the problem, but now wasn’t the time for analyzing her feelings. He thrust into her hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. She cried out, her body stretching to accommodate him.

He set a punishing pace, each thrust driving her harder against the wall. His fingers dug into her hips, sure to leave bruises, and her side ached, and she didn’t care. She pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate for more.

“Is this what you wanted?” Davey growled in her ear. “To fuck the man you were supposed to kill?”

“No,” she gasped. “I wanted you. Just you.”

Davey’s rhythm faltered for a moment, then resumed even harder than before. One hand slid around to rub her clit in tight circles.

A shockwave of pleasure went through her, and her legs trembled, threatening to collapse under her. She had to brace herself against the wall to stay upright.

His clever fingers worked her clit, building her pleasure higher and higher. She could feel her orgasm approaching, a tidal wave ready to crash over her.

“Davey,” she gasped, “I’m close.”

He nipped at her earlobe. “Not yet. You don’t get to come until I say so.”

She whimpered in frustration but nodded. She knew this game well— the exquisite torture of being held on the edge. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged against her neck.

“Tell me again,” he demanded. “Why did you really take the contract?”

“To protect you,” she panted. “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else hurting you.”

His grip tightened on her hip, his thrusts becoming more forceful. “And why is that? Why do you care if I live or die?”

The truth clawed its way up her throat, ripping past every wall she’d spent years reinforcing.

No. She couldn’t—she wasn’t ready.

But with Davey buried deep inside her, his hands gripping her like she belonged to him, like she was his, she wasn’t strong enough to hold it back anymore.

She had never been strong enough when it came to him.

“You know why,” she whispered.

“Say it.” His fingers increased their pressure on her clit. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Because...” she gasped, her body trembling right on the razor’s edge of release. “Because I love you, too, you stubborn asshole.”

Davey went still.

Completely. Utterly. Still.

His grip on her hip tightened, not rough, not punishing—just firm, anchoring, like he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go. For a long, agonizing second, he didn’t move.

Oh God. Had she said too much? Had she just?—

Then his body snapped back into motion. Harder. Deeper. More desperate than before.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” she repeated, the words coming easier now. “I love you, Davey Wilde. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

His fingers rubbed her clit harder, faster, sending her hurtling towards the edge. “That’s it, Hellcat,” he rasped. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Her world shattered, white-hot pleasure exploding through her as her orgasm finally crashed over her in wave after wave of ecstasy. Her knees buckled, but Davey’s strong arm around her waist held her up, and he followed her over the edge, spilling himself inside her with a hoarse shout of her name.

For several long moments, they stayed frozen in place, panting heavily, their sweat-slicked bodies still joined. Davey’s forehead rested against the back of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he withdrew and tucked himself back into his sweatpants, leaving her feeling suddenly empty and bereft. He turned her to face him and cupped her cheeks in his big hands as his eyes searched hers. Anger no longer blazed in those beautiful blue irises. Instead, there was a mix of confusion, hurt, and something else, something soft— longing, maybe.

“Did you mean it?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, unable to look away from his intense gaze. “Every word.”

Davey’s thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, his touch gentle now in contrast to the rough passion of moments before. “I want to believe you, Ro. Jesus, I want to believe you so badly. But...”

“But you don’t trust me,” she finished for him. “I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either, after everything I’ve done.”

He closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. When he opened them again, they were filled with a deep sadness that made her heart ache.

“It’s not that simple,” he said roughly. “I do trust you. At least, I trust that you wouldn’t hurt me, not physically. Even when you’re holding a knife to my balls, threatening to castrate me.” A faint smile flickered across his mouth but was gone in a blink. “But emotionally? You have the power to destroy me, and that’s fucking terrifying.”

The vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty of his admission, it was almost too much to bear. She reached up to cover his hands with her own, her thumbs stroking over his knuckles. “I will never intentionally hurt you, Davey. Not in any way. I want to be the person you can trust, the one who stands by your side no matter what comes our way.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closing briefly. “You lied to me, Ro.”

The words weren’t a slap.

They weren’t even angry.

They were just quiet. Final. True.

She winced anyway.

“For months.” His breath was slow, measured. “You let me walk around with a target on my back.”

Guilt sliced through her, sharp and merciless.

“So now we’ve got a hell of a mess to sort through before we can even think about what comes next for us.”

For us.

Her heart clenched hard.

Even now, after everything, he was still talking about them as an “us.”

But she knew—trust wasn’t a switch you could flip. It was something rebuilt brick by painstaking brick.

Davey exhaled and stepped back. The loss of his warmth made her feel colder than it should have. “I need to call my brothers.” His gaze flicked downward, catching on the small stain of blood on her borrowed shirt. “And Tessa. Have her come look at those stitches.”

“I’m fine.”

His jaw tightened. “I wasn’t gentle.”

“I didn’t want you to be.”

For the barest second, his eyes darkened, the heat from earlier sparking again. A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared just as quickly.

His walls were back up.

Guarded. Controlled.

She hated it.

“I washed all the clothes in your backpack. They’re in the dryer upstairs. Go clean up,” he said, his voice cooler now, more practical. “Then we’re going to have a very long talk about all of this.”

Rowan nodded, knowing there was no avoiding it. She’d confessed her darkest secret. She’d told him she loved him, but that didn’t erase the lies. The months of deception. The ways she’d broken his trust.

She had to earn that back.

Brick by fucking brick.

Davey turned and grabbed his phone from the coffee table before heading for the stairs. He paused at the bottom step, his back to her. “And, Ro?”

She lifted her head, heart slamming into her ribs. “What?”

Slowly, he turned. His blue eyes locked onto hers. Unreadable. Intense.

A beat.

Two.

“The answer’s yes.”

Rowan stopped breathing. “What?”

His lips curved—not a smirk, not quite a smile. Something softer. Something only meant for her.

“Yes,” he said quietly, like it wasn’t even a question. “I still love you.”

Her breath rushed out of her in an explosive exhale, and tears blurred her vision. She blinked hard to hold them back. She would not cry in front of him, dammit.

“Even if I’m pissed as hell right now, that hasn’t changed.” He shook his head and let out a low, self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know what it says about me, but I’m starting to think there’s nothing you could do, nothing you could confess, that would change how I feel.”

Then, before she could even think of a response, he was gone—disappearing up the stairs and leaving her standing there, chest tight, hands shaking, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do with that.