LOGINKEITHNo one pays no mind to the quiet ones, they believe they're harmless so they never let them see 'em in plain sight thinkin' they're harmless when they can do the most kind of harm. That's how I survive.Sit in the background long enough, you ain't a man no more, you're furniture. A chair. A wall. A shadow. That's what Boyce likes best about me. That's why he keeps trusting me.But Sin? She's the only person who doesn't make me lose myself somewhere but keeps me on my toes because she's the same me but with a Grenade.Each time I open the car door for her, she says thank you. Each time I walk two steps behind her, she glances up, as if she actually sees me. Doesn't matter if she's in a gown that costs more than I earn in a month or in heels so high they can snap an ankle in two—she makes eye contact and says, "Good evening, Keith."That's power. Not the sort Boyce portrays in politics and thank goodness for everyone she is not a manipulator or else she'd wreak havoc greater than
SHERIFF VALOUR I’ve had men sit across from me with blood still wet on their knuckles, drunks swearing they weren’t drunk, husbands who thought fists solved arguments rather than straight up communication.I’ve seen all kinds of stupid things in this town but Steel? Steel took stupid and painted it across national television because for pulling this staunt I believe he has a death wish because I am scared of Sin's anger. It's why I've not summoned the courage to confess to her that I'm her father.I found him slouched in the leather chair of his office, the press still buzzing like hornets outside, cameras flashing through the blinds. He was nursing a drink, his tie loosened, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone.I shut the door behind me. “Christ, Steel. You should’ve never done that.”He didn’t look at me. Just stared into the glass. “If I didn’t, I would’ve lost her.”I snorted. “Lost her? You just announced to half the world that you’re the father of two grown men of a sta
BOYCEThe phone was slick in my hand with the sweat of my palm, my voice cutting sharp through the stillness of my office."Non mi importa più," I spat into the receiver, pacing. I don't care anymore. "Ho finito. Ho finito con tutto questo gioco."The other one stuttered something, pleading, but my fury had already taken flight. "No. Mi hai sentito. Io vado per la mia strada adesso. Lei… lei era l'unica che non mi ha lasciato. L'unica. Non le farò mai del male."My throat closed over the words, but I got them out. "Mi ha dato la forza di restare vivo. Di combattere. E tu vuoi che io… che io lo distrugga?"A bitter laugh exploded from me. "Allora fallo tu stesso. Colpiscilo tu."The voice mounted, demanding, threatening. I lost my temper. "Non chiamarmi più. Mi hai capito? Mai più."I slammed the phone onto the desk so hard the screen cracked.Keith, my head bodyguard, stood by the door, arms folded, inscrutable as always. He'd heard it all, of course. He always did."Okay, sir?" he sa
SINThe café smelled of coffee and cinnamon, it lacked the emotional presence to garner warmth for occupants and I suddenly felt cold.I sat across from Catalina, her hands wrapped around a cup of cappuccino she’d barely touched. She was watching me the way she always did when she thought I was about to lie—head tilted, brow arched, patience like a whip ready to crack.“Three years, Sin,” she said finally. Her voice was steady, not accusing, but the weight of it pressed against my chest. “You disappeared on everyone, on me, on Steel, on the boys without notice for Boyce.”I stared at my black coffee. Bitter. Fitting for the way I currently feel. “It wasn’t that simple.”“Of course it wasn’t,” she shot back. “But simple or not, you need to tell me what the hell happened because right now Steel is out there, blowing his life up on live television, and you’re sitting here acting like none of it touches you.”I swallowed hard. My throat felt raw. “Boyce was dying.”Catalina froze. Her ey
STEELI hate press conferences especially after a devilish hangover and outburst; the lights are too bright, the microphones too close, and the reporters too eager—like vultures circling a dying animal.And today? I’m the animal in an open circus.I sat at the table with Knox to my left, my lawyer on my right, both of them stiff as boards. Cameras flashed eagerly. Reporters shouted before the moderator even finished his bland opening statement.“Mr. Valour, can you address your behavior last night?” one woman barked, her glasses sliding down her nose. “You insulted the governor's wife in public—”“Correction,” I cut in, leaning toward the mic. “I insulted my woman. There’s a difference.”The room went dead quiet. Then chaos.“What do you mean by ‘your woman’?”“Are you suggesting an affair?”“What about her husband, Governor Boyce—”“Sit down, shut up, one at a time,” I snapped, raising my hand. “I’ll make this simple so you don’t twist it later. Sin—” I stopped, exhaled. “Her name is
JASSONThe night had mostly passed after the slap which rang across the ballroom, but I couldn't help feeling that something was off. I needed air. I needed answers.That was when Jared saw me.He wasn't like the others skirting the borders of rumor. He didn't appear to be here to pick at scabs or surf the tide of scandal. He just approached, cool, steady, as if he'd been waiting for me."You okay, Jasson?" he asked, his voice even.I laughed out, low and without humor. "Define okay."He cocked his head, regarding me. "Come. Let's speak somewhere less noisy."I followed him to a side hallway where the music receded to a muted hum. He rested against the wall, arms folded across his chest, and for the first time that night I felt like somebody wasn't hovering nearby waiting to judge me."You boys carry a great deal," Jared said. "A great deal more than the majority of your age should. And I think you have a right to know. why things are the way they are."I furrowed my brow. "What are y







