Chapter 22
LUCAS
The gates of Dominion Hall swung open like they'd been expecting us, smooth and silent, the kind of money that didn't need to announce itself.
I pulled the SUV through, watching the iron close behind us in the rearview, and felt something in my chest ease a fraction.
Not relief—I didn't do relief, anymore—but the tactical satisfaction of knowing we were behind walls that could withstand an enemy assault.
Lexi was quiet beside me, her hands folded in her lap, gaze fixed on the mansion as it came into view through the tunnel of live oaks.
Spanish moss hung like curtains in the fading light, and the structure rose ahead of us—stone and glass and money wrapped in ivy.
It looked like it had been there forever, like it would outlast whatever chaos we brought to its doorstep.
"Jesus," she breathed, leaning forward. "This is where you've been staying?"
"If I want," I said, keeping my eyes on the drive.
She turned to look at me, those green eyes sharp even in the shadows. "What is this place?"
I pulled into the circular drive and killed the engine, buying myself a second to figure out what to say.
How much to tell her. The truth was too complicated—half-brothers I'd just learned about, a father who'd built an empire in the shadows, billions in assets I still didn't understand. It was too much, too soon.
"It's sort of a second home," I said finally. "For when I'm working."
"Working," she repeated, her tone saying she knew there was more.
I met her eyes. "Yeah."
She held my gaze for a beat, then nodded slowly. She didn't press, which I was grateful for. Maybe she sensed I wasn't ready. Or maybe she was mulling over our relationship.
Is that what this was? A relationship?
The thought hit me sideways, unexpected.
We'd fucked—more than once, intense enough to leave marks—but was that a relationship?
She was known all over the world, her face on billboards and magazine covers, her life dissected by millions of strangers.
My life was known to maybe a dozen people on earth, and that's how I liked it.
How the hell could we come together? It was impossible.
Deep down, I knew it. But sitting there beside her, watching the way the light caught her hair, I couldn't make myself care.
I stepped out and moved around to open her door. She slid out, adjusting her sunglasses even though the sun was nearly gone, and looked up at the mansion with something like awe.
Noah met us at the door before we could knock, dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyebrows rose when he saw us. "Lucas. Ms. Montgomery. Wasn't expecting you."
"Change of plans," I said.
His expression shifted, reading something in my tone. "Come in."
We followed him through the grand entrance, all marble floors and chandeliers. Lexi's heels clicked against the stone, echoing in the space, and I caught her glancing around—at the sweeping staircase, the oil paintings, the details that screamed money and secrets.
Halfway down the hall, we passed a glass enclosure—a sleek terrarium with soft light and carefully arranged branches.
Inside, a black viper coiled lazily, its scales gleaming.
Its tongue flicked once, tasting the air.
Lexi slowed just long enough to notice it, her breath catching almost imperceptibly.
Neither of us asked. We just kept walking.
"This is incredible," she murmured.
Noah smiled faintly. "It has its moments. So, what’s up?"
I laid it out as we walked—the drone at the Kiawah house. The black SUV at the café, two men inside who hadn't moved the whole time we were there. "Could be press," I said. "But it felt wrong. Too patient."
Part of me wondered if the SUV had been Dominion Hall—Noah's people keeping tabs, making sure I stayed on mission. But Noah's eyes met mine, and he shook his head slightly, reading my mind.
"Wasn't us," he said. "I'd tell you, if it was."
We moved into a sitting room off the main hall—leather chairs, dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. A butler appeared from nowhere, silent as a ghost, and handed Noah a tablet before disappearing again.
Noah glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. He grunted and passed it to me without a word.
I looked down. A tabloid website filled the screen, the headline in bold caps: LILA MONTGOMERY'S MYSTERY MAN REVEALED? Actress & Hunky Bodyguard Tour $7M Love Nest on Kiawah Island!
Below it, a photo. Lexi and me at the house, standing in front of the glass doors. We weren't kissing, but the body language was unmistakable—my hand at her back, her leaning into me slightly, both of us looking at each other instead of the view. It looked intimate. It looked real.
Fuck.
"What is it?" Lexi asked, stepping closer.
I handed her the tablet. She stared at the photo, her face going pale, then flushing. "Oh, my God."
"The drone," I said quietly.
"Hannah's going to flip," she said, her voice tight. "And Franklin—"
Her phone rang, cutting her off. She pulled it from her bag, glanced at the screen, and closed her eyes. "Speak of the devil. It's Hannah."
She held up the phone like evidence. I nodded.
"I need to take this," she said, already moving toward the windows for privacy.
Noah and I watched her go, her voice rising as she answered. "Hannah, I know, just let me—"
I turned back to Noah. "At least, that solves the question about the drone."
"Yeah," he said. "Someone wanted that photo. Probably sold it before you even left the property."
"The realtor?"
"Maybe. Or someone in her office." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. Damage is done."
I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the tension coil there. "And the SUV at the café? You think they’re the guys Ethan told me about?"
Noah leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "I don't think they're connected."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The guys Ethan mentioned—the ones we're trying to track? They're subtle. Professional. They wouldn't let themselves be seen like that." His eyes sharpened. "Whoever was in that SUV wanted you to notice them. That's a message."
"What kind of message?"
"We're watching," Noah said. "Could be a rival production company trying to rattle the shoot. Could be some obsessed fan. Could be nothing."
"Or it could be something worse," I said.
He didn't disagree.
Across the room, Lexi's voice rose again. "Franklin, I understand, but you can't just—" She paused, listening, then shook her head. "Fine. Yes. I'll be there tomorrow. Yes, I promise."
She ended the call and came back, her expression somewhere between furious and exhausted. "Franklin says I'm the most unprofessional actress he's ever worked with. That I'm jeopardizing the entire production. That if I don't show up tomorrow ready to work, he'll replace me."
My jaw tightened. "He can't—"
Noah laughed.
We both turned to look at him. He was grinning, actually grinning, like Lexi hadn't just described a career-ending threat.
"What's so funny?" Lexi asked, not amused.
Noah's grin widened. "Franklin P. Smith. The auteur. The visionary." He chuckled again. "If you ever need ammunition against him, Ms. Montgomery, Dominion Hall has all the dirt. From his early days scraping by on Slim Jims and Fruit Punch to his refined taste in high-dollar escorts in Aspen."
Lexi's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking."
"Not even a little," Noah said. "Man's got skeletons we could bury him with if we wanted to."
She blinked, processing. "Why would you even have that information?"
Noah shrugged. "Before we get involved, like by sending Lucas to keep an eye on set, we do our homework. Franklin's got investors tied to people we keep tabs on, too. Let's just say he's not as clean as his reputation suggests."
I felt a grin tugging at my own mouth. The look on Lexi's face was priceless—shock mixed with reluctant amusement.
"Forget about Franklin," Noah said, pushing off the desk. "Forget about the photo. You two should take the rest of the day and have some fun."
"Fun," I repeated, like the word was foreign.
Noah's grin turned knowing. "Yeah, Lucas. Fun. You remember that concept?"
Before I could answer, he left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving us alone in the quiet room.
Lexi turned to me, arms crossed. "I feel like I'm missing the joke."
I smiled, an idea forming. A reckless, stupid, perfect idea. "How do you feel about spending the rest of the day on a yacht?"
She blinked. "A yacht."
"Yeah. Noah's got one. Said I could use it."
Her lips twitched. "Of course, he does."
"And maybe," I continued, feeling the idea solidify, "we could have dinner tonight. In New York."
She stared at me. "New York. As in New York City?"
"That's the one."
She laughed, the sound a little wild. "Lucas, it's a long drive to New York. We'd never make it in time for—"
"We'd take the jet," I said.
The words hung in the air. Her mouth opened, then closed. "The jet."
"Private jet. Dominion Hall's got a few.
" I shrugged, trying to make it sound casual even though the whole concept still felt surreal to me.
These guys talked about taking a private jet the way normal people talked about calling an Uber.
It was too much to think about, but standing here, watching Lexi process it, I found I didn't care.
"You're serious," she said slowly.
"I am."
She cocked her head, studying me. "Who are you, Lucas Dane?"
I smiled. "Still figuring that out."
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching mine. Then her expression softened. "I'd love to. As long as we can find me something to wear. I can't exactly go to New York in this." She gestured at her casual outfit.
"I don't think that'll be a problem," I said. "We’ve got resources."
"Resources," she repeated, a laugh escaping. "Is that what we're calling billions now?"
I felt my grin widen. "Something like that."
She stepped closer, her hand finding mine. "This is crazy."
"Yeah."
"We're probably going to regret this."
"Probably."
She smiled then, real and bright, and it hit me square in the chest. "Let's do it, anyway."
I pulled her closer, my other hand sliding to her waist. "You sure?"
"No," she said honestly. "But I'm tired of being sure. I'm tired of playing it safe."
I kissed her then, slow and deliberate, tasting her smile. When we broke apart, I rested my forehead against hers. "We'll leave in an hour. That gives you time to find something to wear."
"And you?"
"I'll make the arrangements."
She pulled back, her eyes dancing. "I feel like Cinderella."
"Except you already had the glass slippers," I said.
She laughed, the sound filling the room, and I felt something other than dread.
Maybe this was reckless. Maybe it would blow up in our faces. But standing there with Lexi, watching her eyes light up at the idea of escaping for a night, I didn't care.
I was starting to enjoy the perks of being a Dane.
And if that made me selfish, so be it.