Page 180 of The Owner's Temptation

And whoever just walked into my house?

They’re going to bleed for interrupting me.

All pretense ends in an instant.

The alarm still echoes, but I’m already winding the belt around my hand, tugging it tight until the leather groans. I reach up and rip off my mask, then hers—her face flushed, pupils wide, breath still heavy with arousal and confusion.

Not anymore.

I take her hand, grip firm but steady, and pull her with me. My strides are fast, decisive. No more games. No more play.

We cut through the mirror maze in seconds—my path memorized long before she ever stepped foot on this floor. A wall panel just past the curved glass stage hides the call box. I slam it open, lift the receiver, and press the override code.

Chaos explodes in my ear.

Gunfire. Screaming. One of my men shouting“They’re inside—six—maybe more—fuck—”before the line goes dead.

But one more word cut through the frey.“DeLuca.”

My blood turns to ice.

Lorenzo is here.

He wouldn’t have come himself. He never does. The bastard doesn’t stain his hands. But he sent his dogs. Armed and ready to make a statement.

He picked the wrong fucking place.

I turn to Sienna but she already knows. I see it in her eyes—the shift from playful to terrified. Her body’s shaking and her lips part like she wants to speak, but no sound comes out.

I take her face between my hands, holding her steady.

“Sienna. Angel.” My voice is calm. Quiet. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

She nods, chest rising and falling too fast.

“The club is under gunfire. There are men inside, armed, and they’re not here to negotiate. We have to get out. I need you to stay behind me, and no matter what happens—you do not let go of me.Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispers, but the word barely comes out. Her whole body is tight, vibrating with fear.

I turn, hit a second panel beside the call box. It clicks open to reveal a hidden stash—handguns lined up like art, each one cleaned and loaded. I grab two, checking them fast, efficient. One goes in my waistband. The other stays in my hand.

I glance back at her. “Have you ever seen anyone get shot before?”

She swallows hard. “No.”

“Have you ever seen someone die?”

Her breath catches. “No…”

I nod. “Okay. Baby—listen to me. In order for us to make it out of here, I’m going to kill someone. Probably several someones.”

Her eyes widen, breath hitching again. The reality of what I’ve just said wraps around her like a vice.

“You’re going to see blood,” I say, gentler now, though my tone is firm. “You’re going to see them fall. You’re going to see what it looks like when I do what I was made to do. You okay?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Sienna—look at me.”

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