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"I still have to go there today," I add, pushing myself up from the armchair. "I can't just vanish and ghost them. I have to talk to my manager in person and explain that I need to take an indefinite leave."

Cain immediately steps into my space, his posture straightening. "I'm coming with you."

I look into his dark, unyielding eyes, knowing there is zero chance of winning that debate. "Okay," I agree softly. "Let's go."

We say a brief goodbye to Elijah and step out of the office, heading back down to the car.

As we near The Blackwood, Cain keeps one hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flick over to me. "I'm surprised you agreed to stop working," he says, his low voice breaking the quiet hum of the engine.

I look out the window at the passing city, a small curve touching my lips. "I'm not entirely unreasonable, Cain. When it's just about me, I'll dig my heels in. But I won't put innocent people in danger just to be stubborn."

A rare, faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips, softening the hard lines of his face for a fleeting second.

We park around back and walk in together. The moment we step into George's office, my manager looks up from his paperwork—and instantly freezes. His eyes widen as they land on Cain standing tall and ominous right behind me, broad shoulders filling the small doorway.

George scrambles to composure, but he can barely hide the sudden sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Alexis," George stammers, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "What... what can I do for you?"

"I need to take an indefinite leave of absence, George," I state clearly, keeping my voice professional. "The situation with Nolan Devlin has become too dangerous, and I won't risk bringing that trouble to your doorstep or putting the rest of the staff in danger."

George glances nervously at Cain, who just stares back at him in dark silence.

"Right. Of course, Alexis," George says quickly, nodding so fast his neck practically snaps. "Safety come first. Take all the time you need. Your job will be right here waiting for you whenever it's safe to come back."

I blink, genuinely surprised by how easily he yields. Normally, George would press for details or complain about being short-staffed, but I suspect Cain's imposing presence is doing about ninety percent of the negotiating for me.

"Thank you, George," I say.

I head back to the locker room to clear out my personal belongings, packing my apron and spare clothes into my bag. None of my good friends —Sarah, Piper and Melody—are working the shift today, so I pull out my phone and send a quick group text letting them know I'll be away for a bit, promising to keep in touch.

When I’m done, I walk back out to the alley where Cain is waiting by the running car, ready to take me home.

By the time Monday rolled around, living under constant guard at Cain’s estate was slowly driving me out of my mind.

I was restless. Beyond restless.

Aside from endless hours spent talking to my grandmother on the phone—reassuring her that everything was fine while pacing circles around the massive, quiet living room—I had absolutely nothing to do.

I’m a person who works. I need a purpose. I need a task, a shift, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and this jobless, protected streak was suffocating me. I needed to feel needed again.

So, the moment Cain's car disappears down the long driveway for a syndicate meeting, I slip out the front door, book a cab, and head straight for Eden.

I don't have a direct phone number for any of the other brothers, but I genuinely don't care. Whoever is sitting up in that top-floor office today is going to hear me out.

I cannot do this jobless, helpless streak for another second. The cab drops me outside the sleek, glass-and-steel facade of Eden. I walk through the grand lobby with my chin held high, marching straight past the security desk to the private executive elevator.

I’ve been here with Cain enough times to know the routine. I step inside, key in the six-digit security code on the brass keypad and lean my back against the mirrored wall as the lift surges upward, carrying me straight to the top floor.

When I step out into the executive suite, only Malachi is inside, sitting behind the wide desk with a whiskey glass resting near his elbow. His eyes narrow the second he spots me, sharp and assessing, but he doesn't reach for a weapon or demand to know how I bypassed security.

"Alexis," he says, his voice a gravelly drag. He gestures toward the leather chair across from him. "Sit."

I walk over and pull out the chair, sitting upright with my hands folded in my lap.

"Does the family have legitimate work I can do?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. "Something safe, behind the scenes. Something that keeps me useful."

Malachi leans back in his seat, a slow, amused smirk spreading across his face as he takes me in. "You deliberately went around Cain's back to come here, didn't you?"