Page 104 of King of Praise
“Extremely skilled in bed?” I suggest, remembering her drunken confessions during our last girls’ night.
“God, yes,” she sighs. “It’s really not fair. He’s such a Dom but I’m too much of a brat to submit. The resulting sex is—well, too hot for words.”
I’m about to respond when movement outside the window catches my attention—a shadow passing between trees, too large and deliberate to be wildlife. My hand freezes mid-stir, alarm tightens my chest.
“Liv,” I interrupt her mid-sentence about Sebastian’s bedroom skills, my voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “There’s someone outside.”
“What? Who?” Her tone shifts immediately from playful to concerned.
“I don’t know.” I move away from the window, seeking concealment while maintaining visual contact with the approaching threat. “A man, I think. Coming toward the cabin.”
“Could it be Micah? Or Eli?” Olivia suggests, though her voice has become tense while also trying to remain calm.
“No. Not broad enough to be Micah. And Eli would have called first.” The figure approaches with clear purpose, his masculine silhouette becoming increasingly distinct against the snowy background. Something about his movements—purposeful, controlled—sends a chill through me.
My mind races through security protocols Micah established for precisely this scenario. The gun hidden beneath the loose floorboard near the bed. The escape route through the side window leading to dense forest where I could potentially evadepursuit. The emergency contacts programmed into my burner phone—Micah first, then Eli, then Zeke if neither answer.
“Naomi, call Micah right now.” Olivia’s voice has lost all traces of laughter.
“I need to get to the gun first,” I whisper, edging toward the bed where the weapon is concealed. My hands shake as I try to keep the phone pressed to my ear while watching the approaching figure through peripheral vision.
“What gun? Since when do you have a gun?” The pitch of her voice rises.
“Micah insisted. For emergencies.” I’m almost to the bed when the man outside disappears from view. He moves around to the front door of the cabin. My heart thunders in my chest, blood rushing in my ears so loudly I can barely hear Olivia’s continued questions.
“I think he’s at the door. I need to—”
The cabin door crashes open with inhuman force, wood splinters flying as the frame gives way beneath a powerful kick. Cold air rushes in, bringing with it immediate danger in human form. The intruder’s face remains unrecognizable, concealed behind a black ski mask that reveals only cold eyes that assess the space with professional efficiency.
The phone slips from my nerveless fingers, clattering across wooden floorboards. Olivia’s voice, thin and distant now, continues calling my name with increasing volume and concern.
The sound draws the intruder’s attention directly to me, his movements swift as he advances. Instinct propels me toward the bed and the weapon hidden beneath it, my body finally responding to the threat.
I manage three steps before impact comes—something hard connecting with the back of my head. Light explodes across my vision. Pain blooms sharp, driving me to my knees. Throughencroaching darkness, I hear Olivia’s panicked voice from the fallen phone, calling my name.
“Micah,” I try to say, though I’m not sure if the word actually leaves my lips.
Then consciousness recedes entirely, leaving only silence as I fall into infinite blackness.
Chapter 28
Fury Unleashed
Micah
The maps covering the back office wall blur before my eyes as exhaustion and worry compete for my focus. Every territory marked in careful color-coding represents hours of reconnaissance, countless favors called in, delicate negotiations balanced on the knife edge of violence and diplomacy.
I force myself to concentrate as Zeke outlines our strategy for dealing with the Barone family. His voice carries the measured authority that’s guided us through countless crises, but even he shows signs of strain: tension around his eyes, fingers that drum against the polished wood of the conference table.
The stress of the situation is magnified by the confirmation we received this morning that Francesca is the one that ordered the attacks on us. Even more disturbing is we have proof that Nicolo is indeed behind her betrayal.
Nicolo is not happy with us. We’re responsible for Marcus’s imprisonment, the death of the Costa family, and now the Gallaghers. He wants revenge. He’s using Francesca to get it.
“The shipment arrives Thursday,” Zeke says, tapping a circled location on the harbor map. “Francesca thinks she has exclusive control of those warehouses, but our inside manconfirms the manager’s loyalty remains fluid. We can bribe him.”
Seb lounges in his chair, deceptively casual as he adds financial projections to the discussion. His usual playboy charm has an edge today and his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes. Even Eli, standing guard by the door, radiates subtle tension in the set of his broad shoulders.
We all feel it—the weight of what we’re planning. A direct challenge to Francesca Barone’s authority—and by extension, Nicolo Moretti—hitting her where she’s most vulnerable.
