Tangled in His Shadows

The message sat on my screen like a wound.

You're not safe anymore.

I read it again. Then a third time. My hands had gone clammy. My coffee had gone cold. My mind wouldn't stop racing.

What the hell did it mean?

I hadn't seen Knox since he stormed out the night of the Gala — soaked, wild-eyed, and leaving me breathless. I hadn't heard from Finn, either. The silence from both brothers felt deliberate, as if I'd crossed an invisible line and neither knew what to do about it.

Or worse — maybe they had crossed one.

I deleted the message. But I couldn't erase the panic.

"Babe," Nia said, sticking her head into my room, "you're doing that thing again. The haunted stare. The kind that makes people in horror movies die first."

I looked up. "Sorry."

She frowned and stepped inside, flopping onto my bed beside me. "You've been a zombie since the Gala. Talk to me."

I hesitated.

Part of me wanted to spill everything — the kiss, the warning, the heat still seared into my skin. But I couldn't. Not yet.

"It's work stuff," I lied.

Nia rolled her eyes. "Work stuff doesn't make you flinch when your phone buzzes."

I didn't answer.

After a moment, she sighed. "Fine. Be mysterious. But wear this when you get murdered. At least you'll look hot."

She tossed a lacy red crop top at me and strutted out.

The next day, I showed up at Hart & Vale as usual, but my nerves were frayed. Every corner felt like it held a shadow. Every glance felt like a whisper I couldn't quite hear.

I was halfway through organizing a pitch deck when my desk phone rang.

Finn.

"Conference Room B," he said. "Now."

My heart pounded.

I made my way there, trying not to notice the way other assistants glanced at me like they knew something I didn't.

Finn stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows when I walked in, his back to me. When he turned, his expression was unreadable.

"You're not answering your phone," he said.

"You didn't call."

He slid a burner phone across the table. "Use this from now on. Only this."

I stared at it. "What's going on?"

Finn ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "There's been movement. People are watching you."

"People?"

He met my eyes. "Knox pissed off someone he shouldn't have. Now they're looking at anyone close to him."

My stomach dropped. "But nothing is happening between us."

Finn's jaw clenched. "Doesn't matter. Perception is enough."

I sat down, legs suddenly too weak to stand. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because he thinks he's protecting you. But really, he's pulling you in deeper."

Finn moved around the table until he was in front of me. "I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest."

"Okay."

"Do you want him?"

I froze.

He knelt down in front of me, eyes searching mine.

"Because if you do," he said, voice low, "he'll ruin you. I've seen him do it. You'll become another ghost in his past."

"And if I don't?" I whispered.

"I'll keep you safe," he said. "I'll take care of you."

There was something in his voice — something raw. Not possessive. Not arrogant.

It almost sounded like longing.

I touched his cheek gently. "Finn…"

His eyes fluttered shut for half a second.

And then—

The door burst open.

Knox.

Storm-eyed. Shirt undone at the collar. Hands clenched at his sides.

He saw us — me, touching his brother. His brother on his knees in front of me.

His face darkened like a brewing storm.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, voice like a knife.

"No," Finn said, standing slowly. "You're late."

Knox didn't look at him. Only at me.

"Kaia. Walk with me."

Finn stepped between us. "She's working."

Knox raised a brow. "Then she can take ten minutes off."

They stared at each other like two wolves circling the same bleeding prey.

I stood, voice quiet. "It's okay."

Finn hesitated. Then gave me the smallest nod.

Knox held the door open for me. I walked past him, heart hammering.

He didn't say a word as we strode down the hallway. Not until we reached the elevators.

Then he hit the button and turned to me.

"You shouldn't be alone with Finn."

I crossed my arms. "Funny. He said the same about you."

"He's playing a game."

"And you're not?"

He stepped closer. "Not anymore."

The elevator arrived. He ushered me in.

We rode in silence to the penthouse suite above the office — his private floor.

When the doors opened, I stepped into a different world.

Black marble floors. Crystal decanters. A grand piano. And windows that framed the city like a throne room.

"This is where you live?" I asked softly.

"Sometimes." He poured himself a drink, then one for me. "When I need distance."

I took the glass but didn't drink.

"Why am I here?"

He looked at me. "Because I couldn't stay away."

I swallowed hard. "Then why disappear after the Gala? Why leave me like that?"

"Because I crossed a line."

"We both did."

He took a step forward. "I can't stop thinking about you."

"You're dangerous, Knox."

"I never said I wasn't."

He was close now. Too close. I could smell him — dark whiskey, heat, sin.

His hand reached for my face. I let him touch me.

"I got that message," I said. "The one that said I'm not safe."

His jaw flexed. "You're not."

"Then why bring me here?"

"Because if they're watching you, they'll think twice about touching something I've claimed."

My stomach flipped. "I'm not yours."

He leaned in, whispering against my lips. "Then tell me to stop."

I couldn't.

Because the truth was, I didn't want him to.

His lips brushed mine, and I broke.

The kiss was slower this time. Torture. His hands explored, but they didn't rush. He savored. He tasted. He worshipped.

But just as the moment crested — just as I felt myself surrendering completely — there was a sound.

A sharp, mechanical click.

The lights flickered.

Knox froze.

"Get down," he said, voice deadly calm.

He shoved me behind the couch just as the window shattered — a shot ripping through the glass where I'd been standing.

My ears rang.

Knox grabbed something from under the piano — a weapon. Sleek. Silver.

He crouched beside me, chest heaving.

"We have to move."

"Someone shot at us?"

He grabbed my hand. "They're not going to stop."

"Who are you, Knox?"

He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Someone who just realized he has something to lose."