Ethan arrived at the private club at exactly seven.

Julian arrived at seven twenty-three.

Of course he did.

Ethan sat at the end of a long dining table overlooking Central Park, wearing a charcoal suit and the expression of a man attending his own sentencing.

Claire Bennett, the Blackwood family attorney, checked her watch.

Richard Blackwood said nothing.

Marcus Cross looked increasingly homicidal.

At seven twenty-four, the doors opened.

Julian walked in wearing black jeans, boots, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket.

Ethan looked him over.

“You’re late.”

Julian dropped into the chair opposite him.

“You’re observant. That must be why they made you CEO.”

Claire closed her eyes briefly.

“This is going to be a very long evening.”

Julian reached for the wine.

Ethan moved the bottle first.

Julian stared at him.

“Seriously?”

“We should remain sober.”

“I’m marrying you. I should be allowed anesthesia.”

Marcus slammed one hand onto the table.

“Enough.”

Julian leaned back.

“You brought me.”

Claire opened the agreement.

“The arrangement establishes a ninety-day engagement period. During that time, both parties will make scheduled public appearances.”

“Fine,” Ethan said.

Julian stared at him.

“You’re agreeing?”

“I’m listening.”

“That explains your personality.”

Claire continued.

“The union will function as a public demonstration that the Blackwood and Cross families have entered a permanent ceasefire.”

Julian lifted his hand.

“Question.”

Claire sighed.

“Yes?”

“Can I fake my death instead?”

“No.”

“His?”

“No.”

Ethan looked at him.

“Disappointed?”

“Deeply.”

Claire turned another page.

“Due to credible security concerns, both parties will reside at the same secured location for the duration of the engagement.”

Silence.

Julian stopped smiling.

“Excuse me?”

“My Tribeca residence,” Ethan said.

Julian looked between them.

“You want me to live with him?”

“For ninety days,” Claire said.

“Three months with you?” Julian looked directly at Ethan. “I’d rather get shot.”

Ethan lifted his water glass.

“That can be arranged.”

Claire shut the folder.

“Gentlemen.”

Julian smiled.

“He made a joke.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s even better.”

Richard finally spoke.

“The alternative is war.”

The room changed.

No sarcasm.

No games.

Richard looked at Julian.

“Three shipments have already been intercepted. Two Cross properties were attacked last month. Blackwood assets have been hit twice.”

Marcus continued.

“Someone wants retaliation.”

Ethan’s gaze sharpened.

“You think someone is engineering it?”

“We don’t know.”

Julian’s expression had changed too.

The reckless bartender-racer disappeared for half a second.

In his place was someone colder.

Someone Ethan hadn’t seen before.

“What happens after ninety days?” Julian asked.

Claire answered.

“If both families remain compliant, the engagement may be extended or converted into a legal marriage.”

Julian looked at Ethan.

“And if we hate each other?”

Ethan met his eyes.

“We already do.”

Julian’s mouth twitched.

“Good point.”

---

They signed at 9:16 p.m.

Julian used a ridiculous flourish.

Ethan signed with one clean line.

Julian looked at his signature.

“That’s depressing.”

“It’s a signature.”

“It looks like a cardiogram after death.”

Ethan stood.

“We’re finished.”

“Already? And here I was enjoying our first date.”

Ethan walked away.

Julian followed him into the private elevator.

The doors closed.

For the first time that evening, they were alone.

Julian leaned against the wall.

“So.”

Ethan ignored him.

“Fiancé.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

Julian smiled.

“Oh, you hate that.”

“Yes.”

“Fiancé.”

“Stop.”

“Sweetheart?”

Ethan turned.

Julian was suddenly much closer than expected.

Neither moved.

The elevator felt smaller.

Julian’s grin softened into something more dangerous.

“Darling?”

Ethan stepped toward him.

Julian’s back touched the elevator wall.

The amusement in his eyes flickered.

Ethan leaned close enough that Julian could smell cedar and expensive cologne.

“If you intend to spend ninety days provoking me,” Ethan said quietly, “you should be prepared for what happens when it works.”

For once, Julian had no immediate answer.

The elevator doors opened.

Ethan walked out.

Julian stayed there for two seconds.

Then he laughed under his breath.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

---

Outside the club, rain had started.

A security vehicle waited at the curb.

Julian spotted his Mustang farther down the street.

“I’m driving myself.”

Ethan didn’t slow.

“No.”

Julian followed.

“That wasn’t a request.”

“Neither is this.”

“You don’t control me.”

“You signed a security protocol forty minutes ago.”

“I didn’t read it.”

“I know.”

Julian stopped.

“You knew?”

“You turned eleven pages at once.”

“You were watching me?”

Ethan looked back.

“I watch everything.”

A dark SUV turned the corner.

Too fast.

Ethan saw it first.

His face changed.

“Julian.”

Julian glanced toward the street.

The SUV accelerated.

Straight at him.

Ethan moved.

He grabbed Julian by the jacket and pulled him hard against his chest as the vehicle jumped the curb.

Glass shattered.

People screamed.

Ethan dragged Julian behind a stone column.

A gunshot cracked through the rain.

Then another.

Julian reached inside his jacket.

Ethan was faster.

A compact handgun appeared in his hand.

Julian froze.

Not because of the weapon.

Because of the way Ethan held it.

Perfect stance.

Controlled breathing.

No hesitation.

Ethan fired twice toward the SUV’s rear tire.

The vehicle swerved.

Security rushed forward.

Seconds later, the SUV disappeared into traffic.

Ethan turned immediately.

“Are you hit?”

Julian stared at him.

“What?”

“Are you hit?”

“No.”

Ethan grabbed his shoulder and checked anyway.

Julian pushed his hand away.

“I said I’m fine.”

Ethan looked furious.

Not frightened.

Furious.

Julian’s eyes dropped to the gun.

“That’s interesting.”

Ethan followed his gaze.

“What?”

“You.”

Ethan slipped the weapon beneath his jacket.

“I own a gun.”

“No.”

Julian stepped closer.

“You know how to use one.”

“Most people who own guns do.”

“Not like that.”

Their eyes locked.

For the first time, Julian wondered if Ethan Blackwood’s tailored suits were hiding something much more dangerous than money.

Ethan opened the car door.

“Get in.”

Julian smiled slowly.

“Now I’m definitely living with you.”