The elevator reached the penthouse.

Ethan stood beside the doors.

Julian moved to the opposite side.

“Stay behind me,” Ethan whispered.

Julian stared at him.

“You really haven’t learned anything about me.”

The doors opened.

A man stepped out.

Ethan raised his gun.

The man raised both hands.

“Mr. Blackwood.”

Adrian Vale.

Ethan lowered the weapon.

Barely.

“What are you doing here?”

“Your phone was off.”

“So you broke into my building?”

“I used the emergency executive code.”

Julian leaned against the wall.

“Your coworkers are weird.”

Adrian looked at him.

Then at Ethan.

Then at Julian again.

“So it’s true.”

Julian smiled.

“The engagement?”

“The living arrangement.”

“Jealous?”

Adrian ignored him.

He handed Ethan a tablet.

“We identified the SUV from outside the club.”

Ethan read the report.

Julian moved closer.

“Who owns it?”

“A shell company.”

“Owned by?”

Adrian hesitated.

“Kane Strategic Solutions.”

Ethan’s eyes hardened.

Julian noticed.

“You know them.”

“Sebastian Kane.”

“Security contractor?”

“Among other things.”

Adrian nodded.

“He’s worked for both families.”

Julian’s smile disappeared.

“That’s convenient.”

“Too convenient,” Ethan said.

---

Two nights later, they attended their first official event as an engaged couple.

The Blackwood Foundation gala occupied three floors of a Fifth Avenue hotel.

Julian wore a tuxedo.

He hated that Ethan had chosen it.

He hated even more that it fit perfectly.

When Julian reached the bottom of the staircase, Ethan looked up.

And stopped.

Julian noticed.

“Oh, wow.”

Ethan recovered.

“What?”

“You were staring.”

“I was evaluating.”

“My ass?”

“The tailoring.”

“Sure.”

Ethan offered his arm.

Julian looked at it.

“Seriously?”

“There are cameras.”

Julian stepped closer.

Instead of taking Ethan’s arm, he slipped one hand around his waist.

Ethan went still.

Julian smiled for the photographers.

“Make it convincing, sweetheart.”

Ethan’s hand settled against Julian’s lower back.

Firmly.

Julian’s smile faltered.

“Careful.”

“You started it.”

Camera flashes exploded.

For the next hour, they played the perfect couple.

Julian whispered inappropriate comments during speeches.

Ethan squeezed his waist whenever he went too far.

By dessert, half of Manhattan appeared convinced they were sleeping together.

The problem was that Julian was beginning to wonder why that idea no longer bothered him.

Then a man named William Prescott approached.

Old money.

Old arrogance.

He shook Ethan’s hand and looked Julian over.

“So this is the famous Cross boy.”

Julian smiled.

“I didn’t know I was famous.”

“Underground racing. Bar singing.”

Prescott laughed.

“Quite a change from Ethan’s usual company.”

Julian felt Ethan’s hand tighten around his glass.

Prescott continued.

“I suppose every family needs a little entertainment.”

Julian opened his mouth.

Ethan spoke first.

“Careful.”

Prescott blinked.

Ethan’s voice remained perfectly calm.

“You’re talking about my fiancé.”

The nearby conversations died.

Prescott’s smile weakened.

“I meant no offense.”

“Then you won’t mind apologizing.”

Julian looked at Ethan.

Prescott did too.

Ethan waited.

Finally, Prescott turned to Julian.

“My apologies.”

Julian raised his glass.

“Accepted.”

Prescott left.

Julian leaned closer.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

Ethan looked at him.

“Because nobody gets to disrespect you while you’re standing beside me.”

Julian forgot the joke he had been preparing.

---

They left after midnight.

The underground parking garage was nearly empty.

Julian loosened his bow tie.

“I’m keeping the tux.”

“You complained about it for three hours.”

“I look incredible.”

“That was never in dispute.”

Julian stopped walking.

Ethan realized what he had said.

Julian grinned.

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“Flirting.”

“I’m tired.”

“You become bisexual when exhausted?”

Ethan gave him a flat look.

Julian laughed.

Then a shadow moved behind Ethan.

Julian saw the weapon first.

“Ethan!”

He slammed into him.

A metal baton struck Julian across the shoulder instead.

Pain exploded down his arm.

Ethan turned.

Two men came from behind a concrete pillar.

A third blocked the exit.

Ethan hit the first attacker.

Julian caught the second by the jacket and drove him against a parked car.

The third man pulled a knife.

He went for Ethan.

Julian moved without thinking.

He stepped between them.

The blade sliced across his side.

Julian sucked in a breath.

Ethan saw the blood.

Something in his face changed.

Completely.

The controlled CEO disappeared.

He struck the attacker once.

Then again.

The man hit the floor.

Ethan grabbed Julian before his knees could buckle.

“Look at me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I noticed.”

Ethan pressed his hand against Julian’s side.

His fingers trembled.

Julian looked down.

Then up.

“Ethan.”

“Don’t.”

“Your hand is shaking.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

Security rushed into the garage.

He ignored them.

His entire attention remained on Julian.

---

The wound needed stitches but had missed anything serious.

Julian refused the hospital.

An hour later, he sat shirtless on Ethan’s bathroom counter while a private physician finished bandaging his side.

When the doctor left, Ethan remained.

Julian watched him.

“You’ve been staring at that bandage for five minutes.”

“You shouldn’t have stepped in front of me.”

Julian shrugged.

Pain stopped him halfway.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Ethan stepped closer.

“You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“You don’t know that when you move.”

Julian studied him.

There it was again.

Not anger.

Fear.

“Why do you care?”

Ethan said nothing.

Julian’s voice softened.

“This arrangement is fake.”

“I know.”

“In eighty-three days, we can walk away.”

“I know.”

“Then why were you shaking?”

Ethan looked at him.

For one dangerous second, Julian thought he might answer.

Instead Ethan reached for the clean shirt beside him.

His phone rang.

Adrian.

Ethan answered.

“What?”

Adrian spoke for less than ten seconds.

Ethan’s expression hardened.

Julian straightened.

“What happened?”

Ethan ended the call.

“One of the men from the garage had a Kane Strategic identification card.”

Julian stared at him.

“So the same company from the SUV.”

“Yes.”

“Someone’s trying to kill us.”

Ethan’s gaze dropped to Julian’s bandage.

“No.”

His voice turned cold.

“Someone just made the mistake of touching my fiancé.”