Page 113 of Billionaire’s Ruin

His skin burned under my touch.

“You’re too warm to be fine.”

Inside, my thoughts were tearing each other apart, clawing at my skull—Where’s Kai?

Why did you take him?

What are you doing, Dannie?

But I swallowed them down.

Not yet.

Not here.

So I forced my lungs steady, dropped my hand, and let him lead us inside.

Because whatever was waiting behind that doorway… it was too late to turn back now.

Behind me, Lincoln cleared his throat pointedly.

“Ahem… Hi, my name is Lincoln Young.”

His tone cut through the tension like someone cutting a wire under tension—grounding me just enough to remember where I was… and who I was standing between.

I pulled back from him, my fingers slipping from his arm as I stepped aside.

Both men locked gazes—measuring, weighing, calculating.

His smile was polite, maybe even friendly.

Lincoln’s was not. It was sharp, assessing, the expression of a man who’d already consider three ways to break someone’s kneecaps if he needed to.

“Oh,” he said with a casual shrug, “so you’re the scary big brother June’s been talking about.”

I almost choked on air.

When the hell did I talk about Lincoln to Dannie?

And worse—what exactly did I say?

“I’m not scary,” Lincoln replied, tone friendly but edged with a polished blade. “Just protective.”

Protective.

I almost laughed.

If he only knew how thoroughly I’d sabotaged myself in the last 48 hours, he’d wrap me in bubble wrap and ship me home to New York.

I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here?” I asked, turning back toward him.

“Because I needed help.”

A different voice—deep, worn—cut through.

It didn’t belong to Dannie.

Familiar enough to shatter the ground beneath my feet.