“Indulge me.” I shrug.
“Okay.” She smiles, a hint of color touching her cheeks. “Let me grab my purse.”
As we leave the building, I position myself between her and the silver sedan, maintaining a casual conversation about her plans for the day. Over her shoulder, I watch the car. The man inside straightens, his attention laser-focused on Juno.
My hand finds the small of her back, guiding her to my car. Once we’re in, I check behind us discreetly—no sign of the sedan. Either he’s left, or he’s taking a different route to follow.
“Everything okay?” Juno asks, noticing my distraction.
“Perfect.” I squeeze her hand. “Just family stuff on my mind.”
We reach the Grind & Bean without incident. At the door, she turns to me, a shy smile playing on her lips.
“Thanks for the escort service.”
“My pleasure.” I lower my voice, stepping closer. “See you tonight?” It’s a brazen assumption, but I don’t give a shit.
She nods, and I can’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss. Her coworker inside whistles, making Juno blush and pull away.
“Tonight,” she confirms, slipping inside.
I linger until she’s safely behind the counter, scanning the entrance to the building one more time. No sign of anyone suspicious. No obvious threat. But my instincts are still humming with warning.
I’ll deal with you later, fucker.
It takes sheer force of will to leave Craven Towers knowing that he might still be around, but I console myself with the fact that he’d have to get past security to reach her. Still, by the time I reach Caleb’s penthouse, I’m fifteen minutes late and irritated about the whole situation. The clan crisis, the stalker, the growing complications in my supposedly uncomplicated life—all of it grates on my nerves.
Caleb’s security detail lets me in without comment. The apartment is dimly lit, dark blinds shuttering the tall windows, the only real illumination coming from a flatscreen TV displaying news headlines. My brother sits on his obscenely expensive leather couch, staring at the screen without seeing it.
“Hey,” I say, dropping into the chair across from him. “You look like hell.”
“Feel like hell,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.
I lean forward, studying him. The golden-boy CEO image has some serious cracks today—shadows under his eyes, tension in his jaw, the sort of coiled energy that usually precedes a shift.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask. “Malakai’s not going to back down, and the woman… She’s a wildcard. If she starts asking questions—”
“She won’t,” he cuts me off, voice hardening. “I’ll handle it.”
Classic Caleb. The weight of the world on his shoulders, and he still wants to carry more.
“Handle it how?” I raise an eyebrow. “You can’t exactly silence her, Caleb. And even if you could, it wouldn’t solve the bigger problem. The Heartstone’s acting up, and we need to figure out why.”
His jaw tightens, hands clenching into fists. “I know.”
“Then do something about it,” I snap, frustration boiling over. “You’re the leader of this clan, Caleb. It’s time you started acting like it.”
“Fuck you!” he barks. “I was leading our clan while you were still wondering which beach to lounge on for your gap year. You think I don’t know what responsibility is?”
And there it is. The elder brother superiority complex.
“I’m sure you know all about responsibility, brother.” I lock eyes with him. “What you don’t know about is action.”
It’s an unfair accusation. My brother is nothing if not decisive.
We glare at each other, a tension stretching between us. He looks away first, which is unusual. Normally, Caleb would double down, lecture me about duty and legacy, and all that bullshit. Instead, he seems… deflated.
“While you’ve been watching the bottom line, you’ve lost your edge, Caleb.” I study him, genuinely concerned beneath my antagonism. “And it’s only a matter of time before someone takes advantage.”