Page 181 of The Owner's Temptation

I take her chin again, gently but unyielding, tilting her face until her eyes meet mine. Big. Wild. Glassy with unshed tears.

And then I kiss her.

Because there’s nothing else I can do.

Because if I die tonight, I need her to knowsome partof this was real.

I rest my forehead to hers, both of us closing our eyes. Her breath shudders out against my lips.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she says, voice hoarse but strong this time. “I trust you.”

I exhale hard, letting her answer settle into my chest like a weight.

“Good girl,” I murmur, backing up.

“Stay close. Stay low. And do not run.”

She nods again, trembling fingers brushing the sweat from her brow. Her eyes are wide, but her chin is set. She’s scared—but she’s ready.

I glance back at the security panel, watching the grainy feed. They’re on their way—moving floor by floor, sweeping down from Level Nine. A slow descent with quick intent. They think they’re smart. Think they’re surgical. Coordinated.

But this is my house.

They were hoping for chaos. For blood. For screams echoing through the corridors while I sat in my goddamn throne in The Devil’s Playground, playing host to a hundred masked deviants.

But I cleared the club and they hadn’t counted on that. So now it’s just them… and me.

Andher.

Several of my men are down—I can’t tell how bad—but I’ll grieve for them later. If I make it out. Right now, I only care about the breathing, shaking woman behind me.

And I swear on the fucking flames of Hell itself—I will level this place to dust before I let her bleed here.

I check the hall once more, then turn back to her. “Let’s go.”

We move in a crouch, slipping between the dark shadows ofWrath—structures designed to mimic the ruins of abandoned buildings and crumbling alleyways. Concrete pillars, rusted scaffolding, half-buried rebar twisted like vines. This floor was built forprimal play—predator and prey.

Tonight? It’s real.

We’re almost to the rear wall when I hear the crunch of boots on metal.

They’re here.

I flatten Sienna against a jagged column, shielding her with my body. “Behind me. Stay small.”

She ducks low, her hands balled tight against her stomach.

Voices echo—sharp, alert. I catch them in the reflections—two men clearing the path ahead.

I pull my gun. One breath. Two.

Pop. Pop.

Both drop.

Not fast enough.

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