Selene didn't sleep.
Not after that.
Not with his scent still on her skin.
Darius Vex was curled up in her bed like he never left.
Like he hadn't ghosted her with a blood-soaked goodbye years ago.
Her jaw tightened as his chest rose and fell, she crept out from under the covers without waking him.
Pulled on a silk robe.
Walked barefoot to the window.
City lights blinked like dying stars.
Her chest ached.
Not from love.
From memory.
The kind that never asks permission.
Her phone buzzed.
It was an unknown number.
She didn't answer.
She watched the screen fade.
One more buzz.
Then silence.
Then another.
Then a message:
"You let him in. Mistake number one."
Her blood ran cold.
She turned.
Darius wasn't asleep anymore.
He was sitting up.
Staring.
"I saw the look on your face."
"I didn't make one."
"Exactly," he said. "You only look that dead when you're scared."
Selene stepped back from the window.
Held the phone out.
"Read it."
He did.
Twice.
Then he looked up.
"They know."
She nodded.
"They're watching."
He stood.
Naked.
Unbothered.
Like fear couldn't touch him.
"Get dressed."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not dying with my ass out."
Ten minutes later, they were in the private elevator.
No cameras. No sound.
Only breath.
Selene hit the button for the garage.
"You got wheels?"
"I've got ghosts," he said.
"They'll follow me no matter how fast I drive."
She didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
The doors opened to darkness.
Her car was parked at the far end.
Cam's wasn't there.
That was strange.
Too strange.
She stopped.
Something felt wrong.
Darius grabbed her wrist.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then it was out. Total black.
She heard the click of a gun.
It was not hers.
Too close.
Too slow.
"Down!" Darius yelled.
She dropped to the ground as shots cracked through the garage.
Two.
Three.
She felt the breeze of one near her ear.
Darius dove beside her, covering her with his body.
"Move!" he barked.
They crawled behind a column.
Heart pounding.
Ears ringing.
Selene pulled her own gun from her boot.
Safety off.
"Who the hell knows you're here?"
"Everyone who shouldn't," he growled.
"Thanks for narrowing it down."
She peeked out and sawnothing, Only shadows.
But she knew this game.
They weren't shooting to kill.
Not yet.
This was a warning.
A scare.
An invitation to fall apart.
"On three," she said.
Darius looked at her.
"No one's counting but you."
"One…"
He gripped his knife.
"Two…"
They moved.
She rolled out.
Fired.
It hit someone in the leg. He screamed. Dropped.
Darius was faster.
He lunged.
Blade flashed.
Another body hit the ground.
Then there was silence.
Then footsteps retreating.
She didn't chase.
They weren't amateurs.
They wanted her to follow.
She didn't play fetch.
Back inside the club, Cam was waiting.
Bloody lips.
Bruised jaw.
Selene stared at him.
"You're alive?"
"Barely," he muttered. "Three men. Basement entrance. I took down one."
"Others?"
"Gone."
Darius tossed the knife onto the bar.
"You should check your security, sweetheart."
Cam's eyes narrowed.
"And you are?"
"An old scar."
Selene stepped between them.
"We're locking this place down. No shows tonight. No dancers."
"Nobody walks through those doors without my word."
Cam nodded.
"What about the others?"
"Tell them to disappear. Use the desert house. I want this place empty by morning."
Cam moved.
Fast.
Selene faced Darius again.
"You brought this to me."
"I warned you."
"No," she hissed. "You dragged it in with your name."
Darius didn't flinch.
"I didn't shoot at you."
"No," she said. "But you made me a target again."
He stepped closer.
"Was I ever not one?"
That hit her like a punch.
She looked away.
Back in her room, she pulled off the robe.
Stood in front of the mirror.
Bruises already forming.
Ribs. Thigh. Shoulder.
Her body looked like war.
Darius came in behind her.
Watched her reflection.
"You should rest."
"I can't."
He moved closer.
Put his hands on her waist.
She stiffened.
But didn't pull away.
"I didn't come to destroy you," he whispered.
"Then stop being the reason I burn."
He kissed her shoulder.
Soft.
Regretful.
Then his lips moved lower.
Down her spine.
She leaned forward.
Palms on the vanity.
Eyes closed.
His hands slid under her nightgown.
Rough fingertips.
Gentle touch.
The contradiction made her gasp.
"Don't," she muttered.
"Don't what?"
"Don't pretend this is still love."
He pulled her back.
Pressed her against the mirror.
His voice was low.
"It was never love."
"Then what was it?"
He didn't answer.
Just pushed her panties aside.
Entered her slow.
She bit her lip.
Didn't moan.
Wouldn't give him the win.
But her body betrayed her.
It remembered. Everything. Every inch of him.
Every bruise he gave that once felt like worship.
She grabbed the edge of the sink.
Eyes locked on their reflection.
He held her throat.
Not hard.
Just enough.
Her breath hitched.
His other hand slid down her stomach.
She trembled.
Clenched.
Came.
Silently.
But the mirror caught her expression.
Raw. Broken and real.
When it was over, she pulled away.
Fixed her nightgown.
Didn't look at him. "You have no right to be here." "And what makes you think you should?" He said back quickly,
She walked out.
Left him standing alone.
Again.
Downstairs, she called a number she hadn't used in three years.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"I told you never to call this line."
"I'm breaking the rule."
"Selene…"
"I need a name," she said. "And a body."
Silence.
Then—
"Yours or someone else's?"
"His."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Send the blood," the voice said. "We'll do the rest."
She hung up.
Turned.
And jumped.
Cam was behind her.
"You okay?"
"No."
He watched her carefully.
"You want him gone?"
"I want him buried."
Cam didn't smile.
Didn't question.
He just nodded.
Then he pulled something from his jacket.
A flash drive.
"Found this on one of the men who attacked us."
She took it.
"What's on it?"
"Only one file."
He plugged it into the screen.
The image was grainy.
But it was clear enough.
A strip club stage.
Red lights.
A dancer.
Topless.
Tattooed.
Face turned away.
But Selene recognized the body.
It was Darius On stage. Last week. In her city.
Cam looked at her.
"He's been here longer than he said."
Her mouth went dry.
"You think he's spying?"
"I think he's lying."
Selene stared at the screen.
The video ended.
She closed her eyes.
And for the first time in a long time—
She felt the old rage crawl up her throat like poison.
She opened her phone.
Pulled up Darius's number.
And typed,
"Meet me at the top of the roof and come alone."
Then she whispered to Cam—
"Make sure he doesn't."