Nobody fired.

That was the miracle.

Or perhaps nobody wanted to be the person who started a massacre involving the heirs of both families.

Richard looked at Ethan as if he had become a stranger.

“Lower your weapon.”

“No.”

“You are a Blackwood.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then act like one.”

Ethan’s expression remained calm.

“I am.”

Marcus looked at Julian.

“This man’s family killed your father.”

Julian’s jaw tightened.

“You told me that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Is it?”

Marcus went still.

Julian noticed.

So did Ethan.

Julian lowered his weapon slightly.

“Where’s the original order?”

Marcus frowned.

“What?”

“The order that killed my father.”

“You’ve seen it.”

“I’ve seen copies.”

Julian stepped forward.

“Where is the original?”

Marcus said nothing.

Richard looked toward him.

Something passed between the older men.

Fear.

Ethan saw it.

“So neither of you has it,” Ethan said.

Richard’s voice hardened.

“This is not the place.”

“No,” Julian said. “I think this is exactly the place.”

A shot cracked through the yard.

Ethan grabbed Julian.

Everyone ducked.

But the shot hadn’t come from either family.

A Blackwood SUV exploded.

Chaos followed.

“Move!” Ethan shouted.

Julian didn’t need to be told twice.

They ran.

---

The safe house was in Brooklyn.

Julian had never told his family about it.

Ethan had never told his.

For the first time since the engagement began, they were completely alone.

No staff.

No security.

No lawyers.

No contract.

The apartment had one bedroom, a broken dishwasher and a couch that looked older than both of them.

Ethan stared at it.

“This is terrible.”

Julian locked the door.

“You’ve been here eleven seconds.”

“The couch is hostile.”

“You got shot at tonight.”

“And somehow this is still worse.”

Julian laughed.

He couldn’t help it.

Ethan looked at him.

Then laughed too.

It was the first time Julian had heard the sound without restraint.

It changed Ethan’s entire face.

Julian stopped smiling.

Ethan noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m evaluating.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

“My ass?”

Julian laughed again.

“You remembered.”

“I remember everything you say.”

The room became quiet.

There it was.

The thing they had been avoiding.

Julian looked down at the ring he had put back on sometime during the drive.

Ethan noticed it.

“You took that off.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Julian looked at him.

“Because I believe you.”

Ethan didn’t move.

“The termination order?”

“Fake.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Ethan’s expression softened.

“Do you?”

“Enough.”

Julian approached him.

“Enough to know that if you wanted me dead, you’ve had about a thousand opportunities.”

“More.”

“That’s romantic.”

“I try.”

Julian stopped inches away.

“Why didn’t you end the engagement?”

Ethan’s eyes changed.

“What?”

“You could have.”

Julian’s voice dropped.

“After the SUV. After the garage. After you learned who I was.”

Ethan said nothing.

“You could have walked away.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Ethan looked at him for a long time.

“Because I stopped wanting to.”

The answer hit harder than Julian expected.

He swallowed.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say something sarcastic,” Ethan said.

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Shut up.”

Julian kissed him.

This time there was no anger.

No audience.

No excuse.

Ethan’s hands settled around his waist.

Julian pulled him closer.

The kiss deepened, slower than the first one but somehow more dangerous.

Because this one meant something.

When they separated, Julian kept his forehead against Ethan’s.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably.”

“Our families want to kill each other.”

“Yes.”

“Someone else wants to kill both of us.”

“Yes.”

“The couch is hostile.”

“Extremely.”

Julian smiled.

“Still want to do this?”

Ethan kissed him again.

That was the answer.

---

At four in the morning, they sat on the floor surrounded by files.

Romance had lasted approximately forty minutes before both men remembered somebody was trying to murder them.

Julian opened a financial record.

“Kane received payments after every major Blackwood-Cross conflict.”

Ethan studied another.

“Not just after.”

Julian looked up.

“What?”

“Before.”

Ethan placed three dates side by side.

“Look.”

A warehouse attack.

A Cross shipment interception.

The murder of Alexander Cross.

Each incident was preceded by a payment to Kane Strategic.

Julian went still.

“My father.”

Ethan nodded.

“Three days before his death.”

“Who paid?”

“Shell corporation.”

Julian leaned closer.

Ethan followed the ownership structure through four subsidiaries.

Then stopped.

“Kane Strategic.”

Julian stared.

“They paid themselves?”

“No.”

Ethan pointed to another company.

“They moved the money through this account so it looked like Blackwood funding.”

Julian’s face lost all emotion.

“For twenty years, I thought your family killed him.”

“My father thinks Cross killed my uncle.”

Julian looked at Ethan.

“Same year?”

“Same month.”

They understood at the same time.

“This wasn’t retaliation,” Julian said.

“It was construction.”

Julian frowned.

“What?”

Ethan arranged the documents across the floor.

“Someone built the war.”

Julian stared at the pattern.

Every attack created retaliation.

Every retaliation increased demand for private security.

Weapons.

Transportation.

Surveillance.

Kane Strategic had profited from all of it.

“Sebastian.”

“Yes.”

Julian stood.

“We expose him.”

“We need proof.”

“We have proof.”

“We have transactions. He’ll claim they’re legitimate.”

Julian looked at the Hudson Valley property schedule on the laptop.

Then smiled.

Ethan knew that smile.

He hated that smile.

“What?”

“There’s a joint family meeting tomorrow night.”

“No.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You have the face.”

“What face?”

“The one you make before doing something stupid.”

Julian looked offended.

“I have several of those.”

“Exactly.”

Julian pointed at the screen.

“Sebastian will be there.”

“He’ll also have security.”

“So will both families.”

“Who currently consider us traitors.”

“Details.”

Ethan stood.

“No.”

Julian folded his arms.

“Got a better plan, CEO?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Ethan stepped toward him.

“We make Sebastian believe we turned on each other.”

Julian’s smile slowly returned.

“You go back to Blackwood.”

“You go back to Cross.”

“We publicly end the engagement.”

“Yes.”

“And Sebastian thinks he won.”

“Yes.”

Julian stared at him.

“Then what?”

Ethan picked up the engagement contract.

His eyes met Julian’s.

“Then we destroy him.”

---

The following afternoon, every major person connected to both families received the same photograph.

Ethan Blackwood leaving the Brooklyn safe house alone.

An hour later, Blackwood representatives issued a statement.

The engagement was suspended.

Cross representatives responded within twenty minutes.

Julian Cross had returned to his family.

The alliance was over.

By sunset, rumors of a new war were spreading through New York.

At 7:43 p.m., Sebastian Kane received a private message.

BLACKWOOD REQUESTS A MEETING.

At 7:45, another arrived.

CROSS ACCEPTS HUDSON VALLEY SUMMIT.

Sebastian sat back in his office.

For the first time in months, he smiled.

Across the city, Julian’s phone vibrated.

One message.

Ethan:

Ready?

Julian typed back.

Always, sweetheart.

Then he loaded his gun.

Tomorrow night, the fake engagement would end.

And the real war would begin.