It’s Blake’s day off, and we’re on the couch watching a movie.

Or at least we were some time ago, but it’s been a while since either of us looked at the TV.

The couch groans beneath us. My body covers hers, but I’m careful not to put my full weight on her.

I wrap my palm around her breast and pinch a nipple. “You make me fucking crazy.”

Her back arches as she presses her tit into my hand. It’s a good thing she didn’t have any plans today, because after having her work evening shifts for five days straight, I’m not planning on sharing her with anyone.

“Hellooooo… Fuck.”

My gaze snaps up.

Blake yelps and cranes her neck to look over the sofa.

Sandro. He’s standing at the threshold of the living room, his face beet red. He spins around. “Sorry! The front door was unlocked.”

With a growl, I grab my discarded shirt off the back of the couch and drape it over Blake. He better not have seen anything he wasn’t supposed to, or this is going to be an unpleasant conversation. “Just because the door’s unlocked doesn’t mean you can walk in here without knocking.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I had something urgent to talk to you about,” Sandro says, his back still to us.

I get off Blake, help her put on the T-shirt she’s still wrestling with, and pick up my jeans. “Go wait outside while we get dressed.”

There’s a beat. “It’s snowing outside.”

My jaw clenches with irritation. “Sam, get out!”

Sandro sighs audibly and shuffles out of the room with another mumbled apology.

Blake looks mortified, but when she sees the look on my face, she lets out a hysterical giggle.

I shake my head. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny. He looked like he’d burst a blood vessel.”

“I don’t like the idea of another man’s eyes on you.”

Her cheeks turn even redder than they already are. She gets on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. “I don’t think he saw anything except for his life flashing in front of his eyes when he heard the sound you made.”

That’s probably true, given I was hovering above her. Still, I feel a caveman-like urge to tell Sandro off for waltzing in on us like that.

“Go talk to him. It’s cold out. Do you think everything is okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. He’s just working on an important project for me.” I reach over and smooth her hair out of her face. “Don’t go far. I’ll be right back.”

I step out onto the porch and cast my gaze at Sandro, who’s sulking in a corner.

“Don’t do that again,” I snap.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“There’d be consequences if you had. What was so urgent that you’re here without giving me a call?”

“I called. You didn’t pick up. Now I know why.” He leans against the wooden railing that wraps around the porch and crosses his arms over his chest. “So the leasing agent refused to hand over the keys.”

I frown. “I thought we already signed the documents and sent him the deposit.”

“We did.” Sandro pats his jacket. “I’ve got our copy of the lease right here. We’re supposed to take possession today.”

“Then what the fuck?”

“I don’t know. He said management told him not to give us the keys.”

“Who’s management?”

“He didn’t say, but a quick Google search revealed that the leasing company is owned by Lewis & Co.”

“The mayor’s company?”

Sandro nods. “If I had to guess, I’d put money on your girlfriend’s ex having something to do with it.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“They have no legal right to stop us from taking possession.”

“Yeah, so we can sue. But it’ll take a while to get sorted, because the courts are closed for the holiday now. We’re going to have to wait until January.”

January? I don’t have until January. This is supposed to be Blake’s Christmas present.

A vacuum of anger opens up inside me. I’m so fucking tired of that prick causing Blake and me problems. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to take the high road. But with some men, there’s only one way to make them learn.

I have to deal with that prick. There’s no way around it anymore.

And yeah, that’s Nero talking. The Nero I promised I’d keep leashed. But I’m going to let him out just this once.

“We’re not suing shit. We’re going to go talk to him and do this the old-fashioned way.”

Sandro’s eyes widen. “What is that supposed to—”

I leave him on the porch and go inside to grab my jacket.

“Blake, I’ll be back in an hour,” I call out. “Got to take care of something with Sam.”

Her voice comes from the bedroom. “Okay! See you soon.”

When I come back out, Sandro’s wearing a determined expression on his face, like he’s planning on talking me out of this. “Hold on—“

I cross the front lawn to my truck and unlock it. The gun inside the glove compartment is freezing to the touch. I slip it behind my waistband and wince at the cold, but something inside my chest clicks into place, like a missing puzzle piece.

A hand clenches my shoulder. “Dude. Can you slow down for a second?”

I turn around and face Sandro.

“I’m going to deal with this once and for all. You can come with me, or you can stay here. Your choice.”


Frostbite’s parking lot is busy enough, but it takes me only seconds to spot a familiar red BMW.

Sandro drove us here in his car. I reach to open the passenger door so I can get out, but he clicks the lock into place.

“We need to talk about this.” His knee is bouncing.

I open my palm. “You got the lease?”

“Fuck the lease. You’ve got a gun tucked in your waistband, and I want to know what the hell you’re planning on doing in there.”

“I told you to stay home if you didn’t want to be here for this.”

“I want to be here for this, but what exactly is this?”

“This fucker’s getting out of hand,” I growl. “It’s one thing to be a raging idiot, it’s another to fuck us on a deal. I’m going to make it clear his actions have consequences.”

“You can’t kill him.”

“I’m not going to kill him.” But I am going to scare him into leaving Blake and me the fuck alone. “Promise.”

Sandro seems reluctantly satisfied with that. He reaches into his jacket and takes out the lease. “Here,” he mutters.

“Hold onto it for me for a while longer. You’ve got another copy somewhere?”

“Yeah. It’s digitally signed.”

“Good. Watch and learn.”

We get out of the car. I hold the large wooden door open for a woman with a stroller as she comes out of the restaurant, and then we go inside.

The hostess looks familiar, but I don’t remember her name until I spot it on the name tag. “Hey, Carly. Your boss around today?”

She smiles. “Sure. He’s in his office.”

“Got a question for him, mind showing me to it?”

“No problem, follow me.”

She leads us through the restaurant and to the back before stopping in front of a door. “This is it.”

“Thanks.” I give her a ten-dollar bill. She shoots me a smile before going back out front.

My closed fist taps on the door. Once. Twice.

While I wait for Brett, I adjust my sleeves, tugging them back in place. It’s been a fucking nightmare replaceing clothes that fit me around here, but this jacket is perfect. Smooth, supple leather, well-sewn lining, and a layer of wool inside that keeps me warm even when it drops below freezing.

There’s a shuffling sound on the other side of the door, and then the lock clicks open.

I smile. “How you doing, Brett?”

Blake’s ex doesn’t look too surprised to see us, but he still asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Mind if we chat inside?” I don’t give him a chance to answer before I press in on him, forcing him backward into his office.

He stumbles, his gaze narrowing. “What the fuck?”

“I should be asking you that question. Where are the keys to the storefront Sam and I leased yesterday?”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” My smile grows wider. “No problem. I’ll refresh your memory.”

I grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall. He wheezes, clawing at my arm.

I glance over my shoulder. “Sam, come here.”

Sandro appears by my side, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Give me our signed lease, please.”

Sandro slaps it into my open palm. I shake it until the papers unfold and show it to Brett. “This look familiar?”

I loosen my grip just enough for him to answer.

“Let go of me!” His nails drag against the leather.

I glance down. Fuck, he left a scratch.

“This is my favorite jacket,” I warn. “Get your fucking hands off it or you might make me mad.”

I guess there’s a brain cell or two left in his thick head, because he does as he’s told.

“Good boy.”

I move my palm from his neck to his jaw and force it open. Then I show him the lease again. “You sure you haven’t seen this before?”

The idiot shakes his head.

“Wrong answer.” His eyes bulge as I ball up the papers in my palm and shove them into his mouth. “You owe us the fucking key.” I push it farther and farther past his teeth until he’s gagging on the paper, and then just as he looks like he’s about to throw up, I shove him to the ground.

He coughs for a good minute. When he finally catches his breath, he lifts his gaze to me from where he’s huddled on the floor, and it’s pure, unadulterated hatred. “Fuck you. The agent shouldn’t have signed that. I refuse to have my family’s company do business with you.”

“Does your father even know you pulled this move? Or is this you showing initiative?”

When he doesn’t answer, I click my tongue. “I think if I went to your daddy and told him all about how I’m planning to sue your company for this, he’d fold pretty fucking fast.” I tip my head sideways. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Fear zigzags across his face before he can mask it. “Get out.”

“Nah, don’t think I will.” I grab him by his shirt and throw him up against the wall.

And then I reach behind me, take out my gun, and press it right below his chin.

Sandro, who’s been staying out of this for now, sucks in a harsh breath behind me. “Rowan.”

Brett stills, his eyes growing wide. “What do you think you’re—“

I click off the safety. “Shut the fuck up.”

His jaw snaps shut. It looks like he’s finally getting the message.

“I want the keys, right now. Do you understand? Nod once if you do.”

A second passes before he does.

“Does the leasing agent have them, or do you?”

A flick of his eyes toward his desk tells me the answer.

“Sam, check his desk. Ought to be there.”

A moment later, I hear Sandro rummaging through the desk drawers.

“Got ’em,” he calls out.

Brett mutters a curse, but I press my gun harder against his chin to shut him up.

“Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You’re going to stop talking to Blake unless it’s required for her job. No more private office conversations. No more begging or apologies. She’s mine, Brett. Mine. And the sooner you accept that and move on, the better things will go for you.”

Impotent fury simmers inside his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

“If you don’t leave her alone, I promise you that I’ll be your worst nightmare.”

“Rowan, let’s go,” Sandro mutters.

I take a step from Brett and slide my gun back under my jacket. “Are we clear?”

“Clear,” Brett spits.

I give him a vicious grin. “Nice talking to you.”


“I don’t think that was smart.”

I adjust my sleeves as Frostbite disappears in the rearview mirror. “There’s a time for diplomacy, and there’s a time for force.”

“You didn’t have to pull out your gun.”

“I didn’t want to leave any ambiguity. I want him to know I’m serious.”

Sandro runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m just now starting to feel settled in here. Business is good. You’ve got your girl. Let’s not fuck it all up.”

“We won’t fuck it up.”

“You’re grinning.”

He’s right. I’m in a great mood. I feel like myself, my old self, for the first time since we got here.

“We’re not in New York anymore,” Sandro grumbles, as if I need a reminder.

Annoyance inches along my skin. Sandro’s nothing but a buzzkill. It’s bad enough I have to act like a fucking choirboy most of the time, but this was one fucking opportunity to flex an old muscle, and he won’t even let me enjoy it.

“I’m well aware.”

He glances at me, probably picking up on the change in my tone. That knee of his starts bouncing again. “I’m just making sure.”

I tamp down my frustration. Sandro’s just trying to watch out for me the way he promised Rafe he would.

“Give me the keys,” I tell Sandro.

He hands them over. The keys to the storefront. Blake’s future bookshop.

And the keys to my future here.

A future where maybe one day I’ll be able to let go of my past.

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