Page 53 of The Marriage Debt

“It’s not a true thing, either,” I say quietly, and as I do, bitterness touches my heart. I hate those words on my tongue because they make this more real than I want it to be. If I leave, Lev stays. Mateo made it clear. And I don't hate it here, as much as I pretend to.

“It is for now.” Mateo's calm reassurance, coupled with the way he doesn't pull away or make me leave his bed, is encouraging. He really meant it. He really does intend to keep Lev here, and by doing so, he'll allow me to stay. But what does that make me? His whore, or something else?

I rest my forehead against his chest. His skin is warm, heartbeat steady. He makes everything sound so simple. I envy that about him.

“He trusts you,” I whisper.

“I know.” The way he says it isn’t cocky. It’s just honest.

“You’d burn everything down for him,” I say, repeating the words before I can think too hard about them.

Mateo doesn’t answer right away. His hand slides up my spine, one slow stroke. “I already have.”

I close my eyes. That answer scares me more than if he’d said no.

Not because I don’t believe him. But because I do.

We don’t talk after that. He holds me like he means to stay that way, and I let myself believe it’ll last.

26

MATEO

Lila sleeps pressed against me, her leg draped over mine, her face tucked just below my collarbone. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember this—her skin warm against mine, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the faint scent of her shampoo clinging to the sheets.

It’s a strange kind of quiet. Not peace, exactly, but stillness.

Her hand rests against my chest, fingers twitching slightly in her sleep. She always runs warm, like a furnace. I keep thinking I’ll pull away eventually, roll over and give us space, but I never do.

I hold her instead. And I feel… something.

Not just the pull of her body, not just the distraction of her mouth or the sharp edge of her tongue when she’s pissed. It’s more than that now. There’s a weight to this, to her. She’s taken root in places I didn’t think were still alive.

I should be more careful about this, but I don’t move. I enjoy her for a moment longer.

Then it hits.

Alert: Perimeter Breachflashes across my phone screen, followed by a low beep and a pulsing red light. I’m out of bed before the second tone. My ears reach into the darkness outside the walls of the house. I hear footsteps, fast to the south side, but no gunfire. It means my men don't know something has happened.

“Power’s out,” I mutter, grabbing the pistol from the drawer and chambering a round. “Backup generator just kicked in. Forty-second delay on the exterior motion sensors.”

Lila bolts upright, eyes wide. “What?”

“Get him,” I bark, already halfway across the room.

She doesn’t ask questions. She’s moving before I reach the door. She shoves her arms into the sleeves of her house coat and rushes out as I sweep the hall first—nothing. Lights are low, running on emergency power. Red emergency strips blink along the baseboards. I don't hear anything downstairs yet either.

Lila rushes out of Lev’s room with him in her arms. He’s groggy, confused, clutching her neck with both arms. It's chilly. I grab a blanket off the hall bench and throw it around him.

“Panic room,” I say, guiding them down the stairs. “Now.”

There's no sign of a breach yet, but I don’t trust the silence I hear. Where men's eyes fail, my sensors have told me to be wary. I'm not fearful, but I'm not stupid. I lead the way, heading down the stairs, and Lila clings to my back side. If Lev is awake enough to know what's going on, he doesn't say anything.

We reach the panic room door. I punch in the manual code with one hand while keeping my weapon trained on the hall behind us. The lock hisses and releases. I shove the door open.

Lila rushes in. I follow last. As soon as I hit the inside panel, the door seals shut behind us, heavy metal sliding into place. The sound is deep, final.

Then—gunfire.

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