“Only something to help you sleep.”

The grand foyer of the Grey estate was a cavernous space of polished marble and soaring archways, entirely devoid of the warmth present in the nursery above. The cascading crystal chandeliers were unlit, the only illumination coming from the harsh security floodlights outside bleeding through the high, reinforced windows.

Cassian descended the sweeping marble staircase with measured, deliberate steps. He had removed his vest, wearing only a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the intricate, refined tattoos wrapping around his muscular forearms.

Standing in the center of the foyer, surrounded by six of Cassian’s heavily armed enforcers, was Arthur Sloane. Odette’s father was a ruthless, aging capo, his face flushed with arrogant rage, his heavy wool overcoat looking out of place amidst the tactical gear of the guards.

"Where is my daughter, Grey?" Arthur demanded, his voice echoing loudly in the cold space. "You have lost your damn mind! You cannot hold a Sloane hostage in your own home!"

Cassian stopped on the final step, towering over the older capo. His cold, watchful eyes analyzed Arthur with the clinical detachment of a butcher observing livestock.

"Do you believe you give orders in my home, Arthur?" Cassian asked, his deep voice a low, terrifying rumble.

"I am not giving orders, I am giving you a final warning!" Arthur spat, taking a step forward before Marcus’s massive hand slammed into his chest, stopping him dead. "Release Odette right now, or the alliance is dead, and we go to war."

"Are you willing to die for a woman who attempts to murder her host at his own dinner table?" Cassian asked, his jaw settling into a sharp, uncompromising line.

Arthur sneered, trying to maintain his bravado. "She was just giving you a sleep aid! You are paranoid, Cassian! You are letting a spoiled brat and a maid dictate the politics of the entire eastern seaboard!"

"Do you consider the premeditated assassination of my person to be mere politics?" Cassian inquired, stepping off the stairs and closing the distance between them until he was mere inches from Arthur’s face.

"It's business!" Arthur shouted, spit flying from his lips. "And right now, business dictates that you hand her over before I burn this place down!"

"Shall we see how much your business is worth when it is buried in ashes?" Cassian asked softly.

"You're insane. Hand her over, Cassian. This is your last chance," Arthur hissed, lunging forward.

Before Arthur could even raise his fist, Cassian moved with blinding, lethal speed. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply reached out, his tattooed hand closing like a steel vice around the lapels of Arthur's heavy overcoat. Cassian lifted the older capo slightly off the marble floor with one arm, the sheer masculine power in his broad shoulders evident as Arthur choked and thrashed wildly in the air, his polished leather shoes kicking uselessly.

"Did I invite you into my home to listen to your insults?" Cassian asked, his cold eyes boring into Arthur’s rapidly purpling face.

He held Arthur suspended for three agonizing seconds before violently throwing him backward. Arthur crashed onto the polished marble, gasping frantically for air, clutching his bruised chest, his overcoat ruined.

"Will you crawl back to your vehicles before I decide to keep you here as well?" Cassian asked, looking down at the pathetic figure on the floor.

Marcus grabbed Arthur by the collar and hauled him to his feet, shoving him roughly toward the heavy front doors. "Get out of here before the boss changes his mind."

Arthur stumbled out the doors, coughing violently. As he reached his armored SUVs, he turned back, screaming a final, desperate threat. "You’re dead, Grey! You hear me? We’re coming for you tonight!"

The heavy oak doors slammed shut, sealing the mansion once more.

Cassian stood in the center of the foyer, casually adjusting his collar. The confrontation had barely raised his heart rate.

From the shadows of the second-floor landing, Willa stood frozen, her hands gripping the carved wooden banister. She had disobeyed his order to stay in the room, terrified of what was happening below. She realized the massive, apocalyptic scale of the danger surrounding them. The entire city was about to burn because of what she had exposed at the dinner table.