CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I peeled away Orpheum first, headlights slicing through the night. Cassian’s taillights appeared in my rearview, then Derrick’s, each of us retreating to our separate homes.
The highway stretched before me, an endless black ribbon. City lights blurred past—neon smears against darkness. My foot pressed the accelerator harder than was wise, but no speed could outpace the image burned into my brain of Selene’s face.
What I saw in her eyes wasn’t just pain. It was the collapse of something fundamental—a faith I hadn’t earned but she’d given me anyway. Most Dominion wives would have masked any hurt instantly. She hadn’t bothered, but Selene had been like most anything and that’s one of the reasons I married her.
My phone lit the darkness. Derrick. I declined the call, but seconds later came his text: She’s in the nursery. Angel called after she left to head home. She would have stayed I told her you two needed space.
I knew exactly where I’d find her—wrapped around our son like a fortress wall. Whenever Selene’s world shattered, she retreated to Nikolai’s side.
Never mine. And after tonight, perhaps never again.
The exit sign for our property materialized through the windshield.
I cut the wheel hard, tires protesting as I took the turn at dangerous speed.
Twenty minutes of winding roads later, our estate emerged from the darkness.
We’d chosen this location precisely because no one approached without the Watchmen spotting them miles away.
The security gates parted at the recognition of my vehicle. Only then did I ease off the accelerator, guiding the car to a stop before killing the engine. I didn’t hesitate to get out and go in. I wasn’t going to pussyfoot around this.
The house was silent when I entered.
It was the kind of silence that meant everyone with sense had gotten as far out of sight as possible.
I went straight upstairs to find her. I made it halfway down the hall toward the nursery before I saw Santos standing outside the door, posture rigid, hands behind his back like he was trying to hold himself together.
His eyes lifted when he heard me.
Santos’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “She deserves a better man than who she saw tonight.”
I froze mid-step.
“She deserves better,” he repeated, voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more weight than a shout.
In three swift strides, I closed the distance between us. My face inches from his, close enough to feel his breath quicken. His head tilted back, but his eyes never wavered.
“Did I fucking ask for your opinion on my marriage, Santos?” The words came out as a soft warning.
His throat worked as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, but his stance remained rigid. “With respect—.“
“There is no respectful version of that sentence. You work for her safety, not her emotions.”
Santos’s voice dropped to a lower whisper. “She’s flesh and blood, not just some concept. You should know what you’ve done.”
“You forget yourself. You have been with my family for decades, Santos, so maybe you’ve gotten too lax. Say another word, and you won’t be standing at this door tomorrow. You know what becomes of Wardens who’ve gone rouge.” I replied softly.
Something in his face hardened to stone, but he moved out of my path.
I pushed the door open silently and entered.
The nursery wrapped around me—dim lamplight pooling across the floor, thick curtains shutting out the world, the scent of baby powder suspended in the air. Her touch was everywhere.
Selene occupied the ornate rocking chair, her body curved protectively around our son as if he were her last lifeline. Nikolai rested against her, small fingers clutching her shirt, dark curls nestled beneath her chin.
When she raised her gaze to mine, the impact of what I saw there hit harder than the bullet that nearly killed me at twenty-one.
“We need to talk,” I murmured.
A single nod. Controlled. I’d anticipated as much with our son present. She maintained a rule against conflict near him—discipline forged from childhood trauma she seldom mentioned.
I moved to her and eased Nikolai from her embrace. He shifted, settled against me, then surrendered back to sleep with a quiet exhale. I lowered him carefully into his crib, adjusted his blanket, and bent to kiss those curls I’d dreamed of seeing on my own child for as long as I could remember.
Half the nights I was supposed to be out working, I’d speed home like a man possessed, just to lie on the nursery floor in the dark.
I’d press my palm against Nikolai’s back when he stirred from teething pain, feeling his tiny heartbeat hammer against my hand, counting each precious breath like it might be his last in this dangerous world we’d made for him.
I couldn’t risk the same with Selene.
One creak of floorboard and she’d be instantly awake, knife in hand before her eyes fully opened.
My fingers strangled the rail of his crib as the truth burned through me. That bastard Darius—his own grandfather—had sold my wife like property, promised her to another man, and now had designs on my son.
My son.
Blood of my blood.
This wasn’t sanctioned Dominion business—this was treason.
Selene bore my name—Kostas—a brand burned into her very existence that could never be removed.
What Darius plotted violated everything sacred in our world.
But then, a man who could murder his own wife in cold blood had already crossed into territory from which there was no return.
Dominion law carved it in blood: a man could discipline his wife, but never take her life.
Mistresses? Fair game. I needed to hunt down every scrap of evidence, every whispered secret, every fucking breadcrumb that would let me put Darius in the ground permanently.
One wrong move and this intel wouldn’t just be ammunition—it would be a grenade detonating in my own hands, shredding everything I’d built.
The gaps in my knowledge burned like acid.
No terms.
No timeline.
No trigger point.
No idea what Selene had heard echoing through that mausoleum Darius called home that made him arrogant enough to sign his own death warrant.
One truth hammered in my skull, I would carve out my own heart before laying this burden on her shoulders without the absolute certainty I could annihilate the threat.
Not with the Citadel circling like vultures, rival syndicates testing our borders.
Not with Kostas shipping vessels becoming floating targets, men dying on my orders.
When I turned back, Selene had vanished like smoke. I flicked on Niko’s nightlight, plunged the rest into darkness, and pulled the door shut, my shoulder brushing past Santos without another word.
I knew where Selene would have gone—the second-floor den. I followed the same path and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
The two of us were finally alone with what I’d done.