K stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back—military, controlled. Nothing left of the boy who used to throw pebbles at my window.
“No one will hurt you here,” he said.
His tone was calm. Too calm.
Dev went to push me out of the lift, but K lifted a hand. “Don’t. Don’t touch her. She hates that.”
Dev hesitated. Watched him closely. Then nodded, stepping back.
He gestured to me—after you.
But I couldn’t move. Not toward him. Not yet.
He’d once promised to keep me safe.
Now he was the one I needed saving from.
“What do you want?” I demanded, trying to keep my head high even though my hands were shaking. “Take me back.”
“Not until we talk.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Well, I do. Please, Quinn—”
“Don’t call me that.” The words came out sharper than I meant.
Dev’s head whipped toward me. “Quinn? As in Gideon and Georgina Quinn?”
K lifted a hand, voice clipped. “That stays in this room, Dev. Do you hear?”
Dev blinked. “You’re a Quinn?” he asked, disbelief cracking through his calm.
“Dev, are we about to have a problem?” K’s tone cut like glass.
Dev swallowed hard. “No, sir.”
“Good. Now shut the hell up.”
“No one’s supposed to know my name here,” I said quietly, my voice trembling despite myself. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Dev glanced at K, then back at me. His tone softened a fraction. “I won’t. But tread carefully, kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” I shot back, chin lifting. “I’m nearly twenty.”
Something flickered across Kieran’s face—an emotion too quick to name—then it vanished beneath steel.
“What the hell are you doing here, Quinn?” he asked finally, voice low and controlled.
“What do you think? You think I came for the scenery?”
His jaw tightened. “What did you do?”
“None of your goddamn business, Kieran.”
“Kieran?” Dev echoed, looking between us.
K’s glare snapped to him. “You’ll call meKhere.”
