Page 83 of Breaker

“I told Delilah I’d keep you safe,” Breaker says, his voice cracking through the chaotic storm of thoughts in my head.

I keep my eyes locked on his mouth. The full lips. The delicate heart peaks somehow both elegant and too harsh. My gaze slips to his jaw, square and cut sharply, smoothly shaven, then down to the thick column of his neck. I’ve seen his neck and jawline and felt his lips, but they all look so different when I can see the rest of him.

He’s young. Close to my age, I think.

Every feature is perfectly symmetrical and stoic yet carrying that slightly too clean look that only younger men have. With high cheekbones and such smooth skin, he looks like hecould be carved from marble. His long, sculpted nose, with a slight upturn, shadowing his perfect sultry mouth.

Striker has a slight harshness to his softness, while Breaker looks almost angelic in his perfection. Like he should be stalking down a runway, or singing in a choir, not standing before me.

My first instinct is to touch his cheek, then slide my hand around the back of his neck, and force his lips to mine, but I dumbly say, “You’re bald.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and he slides a hand over his scalp like he’s reassuring himself that his head is, in fact, shaved clean. “Yes.”

I take in air, still struggling with placing him with the soldier who made me sandwiches back at the mansion, who gave me his coat because I was cold, alongside the man who held a gun to people’s faces so he could kidnap us, with the man at the party wearing the perfect tux and lion mask.

To Breaker. The man right before me who looks just as out of sorts as I feel.

Wait.

“You’re Snyder,” I say, stepping back as if putting distance between us will ease my shock. “You’re the asshole Snyder guy.”

Those eyes seem to brighten. Lips quirk into a grin. “I am.”

My laugh cuts through the room, echoing back at me. “You just took Rune for millions.”

That grin curls into a mischievous smile. “Actually, we let himhavethe chain of hotels with only a small profit.”

“But why?”

“To get closer to him,” Breaker says. “Rune’s love language is money. He craves it.”

“He craves a lot of things,” I say. “Including power.”

“And what better way to get close to him than to give him what he wants?”

“What did you give him?” I ask. I know they sold him something more than that chain of hotels. The sum was too large.

“Weapons.”

Out of all the things I imagined, that never once crossed my mind. I rub my temple, the sign of a headache making it harder and harder to think. “Why would you sell your enemy weapons? That makes zero sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Breaker says. “We needed to gain his trust. We let loose a few rumors that Snyder Inc. deals in arms. Military grade. Things you can’t even find on the black market.”

“But why?” I rifle through what I know. He didn’t make a sale of any kind after the Snyder deal. He’s not even trying to set one up. So, he can’t be reselling them.

“The yearly hunts.”

“His boys’ club?” I shake my head, trying to piece this all together. “He’s not out taking down elephants at the lodge. Why would Rune need military-grade weapons?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you hungry?”

“What?” I look around like I’ll suddenly spot a gourmet kitchen in this converted factory, my head spinning from this conversation and sudden change in direction. From the entire night.

“Nanny always said food makes bellies happy, and happiness makes people smile.” Breaker removes his hands from his pocket, rubbing his fingers over his mouth, like he wishes he could put the words back. Winter blue eyes move up to the ceiling and then drop back to me.

My laugh surprises us both.

“Who’s Nanny?” I ask.

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