Page 183 of The Owner's Temptation

Stillness.

I wait one more breath, then push it open.

Clear.

I exhale hard, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside with me. The metal door swings closed behind us with a soft thud, and we move—fast.

I take the stairs two at a time, boots pounding against concrete. She's barefoot in nothing but her mesh bodysuit, and I hear the soft slap of her soles with every hurried step, her breathing ragged behind me. Her courage is admirable, but she’s unraveling fast—and who the fuck could blame her?

When we hit the bottom, I don’t stop. I grip the door handle tight, every instinct screaming this is the final moment. Freedom or a bullet.

I throw it open and burst out—gun raised.

Another barrel meets mine.

"Fuck—" we both start, pulling our weapons back when I realize it’s Killian. My head of security. His eyes are wide, gun lowering just as fast.

“Jesus, boss.”

“Where are they?” I demand, scanning behind him.

“Still inside. Five of them. Moving slow. We’ve got eyes.”

“How many of ours?”

Killian’s face tightens.

“Three injured. But they’ll live. No deaths.”

I close my eyes for half a second.

Relief hits like a sledgehammer. The ache in my chest loosens enough to let me breathe.

Killian holds up two security jackets. Sees Sienna behind me, still trembling, lips pale, eyes blown wide from adrenaline and fear.

He tosses me the jackets.

“Get her out of here. We’ve got the rest.”

He looks at her, not unkindly.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Good thing the club was already cleared. If it hadn’t been, this would’ve been a massacre.”

Sienna doesn’t speak. Just gives him the faintest nod. She’s trying to hold it together. But she’s barely tethered.

“Come on,” I murmur, taking her hand again.

We round the corner and I lead her straight to the back lot—dark, empty, silent.

My motorcycle sits parked beneath the floodlight. Two helmets wait.

I tug one free and crouch in front of her, gently sliding it on over her head. My fingers graze her cheeks as I adjust the strap.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

She shakes her head. Her breath’s shaky. She’s holding on by threads.

Fuck.

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