Page 41 of Unholy Nights

"I'm afraid," she admits, and the vulnerability in her voice makes me want to paint the walls with the blood of everyone who's ever hurt her.

"Don't be," I murmur, kissing her again, claiming her mouth with slow, deliberate possession. "I'll destroy anyone who tries to touch you. Your mother, Emmitt, all of them."

"Even Daniel Montgomery?"

"Especially him." My hand settles gently around the front of her throat as I imagine all the ways I could make him disappear. "Your mother can make all the plans she wants. But the only future that exists is the one where you're carrying my child,wearing my ring, sharing my bed. And I'll eliminate anyone who tries to stand in the way of that."

My teeth graze her bottom lip, drawing a soft gasp from her throat. "Cohen—"

My phone vibrates in my pocket, cutting off whatever confession was about to fall from those perfect lips. One look at the screen shows Tristen's name.

When my client and friend calls—when any of the Savage Six calls—you answer.

"I need to take this," I say, stealing one more taste of her mouth before standing. "Don't move. We have unfinished business."

She nods, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes dark with something desperate and needy that makes walking away feel like carving out my own heart.

I move to the window, positioning myself where I can watch Emerald while scanning the snow-covered grounds. "What's happening?"

"Montgomery Jr.'s been shooting his mouth off at my club." Tristen's voice carries the casual menace of a man who could start a war with a single phone call. "Seems the little bastard can't stop talking about his Christmas present from Madeline."

"Elaborate."

"He's telling anyone who'll listen that he's going to announce his engagement to Emerald at the party. That Madeline's arranged everything." Tristen pauses. "You want me to handle it?"

An offer from one of the Savage Six to "handle" a problem isn't made lightly, and I know Tristen has a lot going on right now. "Not yet. But keep him talking. I want to know what else Madeline's promised him."

"There's more. He's been asking questions about you. About our connection. The kind of questions that suggest Madeline's fishing for leverage."

I watch Emerald through the reflection in the glass, memorizing every detail of how she looks right now - flushed and wanting. "Let him ask. It'll be the last mistake he makes."

"She's not as smart as she thinks she is," Tristen says, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

"Of course she isn't." My eyes stay fixed on Emerald's reflection as she pretends to read, stealing glances in my direction. "She's getting sloppy."

"Want me to put some pressure on Montgomery Sr.? Nothing ruins Christmas like your company stock taking an unexpected dive."

I smile at the casual way Tristen offers to destroy a family's generational wealth. This is why we’re friends. "Not yet. But keep watching him. I want to know every word that comes out of his mouth about Emerald."

"Done. And Cohen?" Tristen's voice drops lower. "Watch yourself. She's starting to realize she's lost control. Makes her unpredictable."

I end the call, already calculating how many moves ahead I need to be. Madeline's desperation makes her dangerous, but it also makes her vulnerable.

"Everything okay?" Emerald's soft voice pulls me back from the edge of darker thoughts. She's watching me with those pretty eyes, and something in my chest twists at the concern I see there. I cross back to her, drawn like a compass finding north.

"Everything's fine," I tell her, though we both know it's a lie. When she steps into my arms, my entire existence narrows to the weight of her against me. "Just business."

She tilts her face up, studying me. "You're angry."

"Not at you," I assure her, brushing my lips across her forehead. "Never at you."

She's quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "My mother wants me to go to the Christmas party with Daniel Montgomery."

"That's not happening." The words slice through the air between us, and I feel her shiver. "At the party, everyone's going to learn exactly who you belong with. No more hiding. No more pretending."

"What do you mean?"

I cup her face in my hands, drinking in every detail of her features—features I've memorized in midnight visits and endless hours staring at the camera feed in her room. "I mean it's time to burn your mother's perfect world to ash. Starting with her precious Christmas party."

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