I woke up to the sound of a phone ringing.
It wasn't the hotel phone. It was a burner phone.
I blinked my eyes open, disoriented. The room was bathed in the harsh, bright light of mid-morning. The black sheets were tangled around my legs. My body felt heavy, aching in a way that brought a flush to my cheeks as the memories of the night came rushing back.
Cassian.
I rolled over, reaching for him.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me. He was wearing only his boxer briefs. His muscles were tense, his spine rigid.
He held a small, cheap flip phone to his ear.
"I understand," Cassian said, his voice ice cold. It was the voice of the Underboss, not the lover.
I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "Cassian?"
He held up a hand, silencing me.
"If he is there, then we have a breach," Cassian said into the phone. He listened for another second, then swore viciously. "Do not engage. I'm coming back."
He snapped the phone shut and crushed it in his hand until the plastic cracked.
He turned to look at me. His eyes were hard, the golden fire from last night replaced by cold steel.
"Get dressed," he ordered, standing up and reaching for his discarded tactical pants.
"What's wrong?" I asked, panic spiking in my chest. "Is it my father?"
"Worse," Cassian said, pulling a fresh shirt over his head to cover the scratches on his back—marks I had left. "It's the Syndicate. The Council knows about the drive."
"The drive?" I looked at the desk where the expensive USB stick still sat. "But you bought it legally."
"I bought it for twenty million dollars," Cassian said, strapping his holster back on. "That kind of money draws attention. The Council thinks I bought it because I'm planning to betray them. They think I'm cutting a deal with your father."
"But you're not!"
"It doesn't matter what the truth is, Elena. It matters what it looks like." He walked over to the bed, leaning down to grip my chin. He kissed me hard—quick, possessive, but without the softness of last night. "We have to leave the island. Now. Before they lock down the port."
"Where are we going?" I scrambled out of bed, hunting for my clothes.
"Home," he said grimly. "To prepare for a siege."
BANG.
The door to our suite didn't open. It exploded inward.
Splinters of wood flew across the room. I screamed, diving to the floor.
Cassian was moving before the dust settled. He shoved me behind the heavy oak dresser and raised his gun.
Three men in tactical gear stormed through the smoke. They weren't wearing police uniforms. They were wearing the crest of the Rossi Family (Claudia's family).
"Cassian Vance!" a voice boomed from the hallway.
Claudia stepped over the debris of the door. She was holding a pistol, and she didn't look like the jealous ex-lover anymore. She looked like an executioner.
"By order of the High Council," Claudia announced, her eyes flicking to me crouching behind the dresser, "you are under arrest for treason against the Syndicate."
Cassian didn't lower his gun. "You're making a mistake, Claudia."
"The only mistake," she sneered, pointing her gun at me, "was thinking you could keep a pet without a license. Hand over the girl and the drive, Cassian. Or we kill you both right here."
Cassian looked at the three armed men. Then he looked at Claudia. Then he looked at me.
"Elena," he said calmly, never taking his eyes off Claudia. "Do you remember the game we played in the car?"
My heart hammered. The car? The crash?
"Yes," I whispered.
"Good," he said. "Get ready to run."