POV: Chloe

Tristan held my gaze. The raw vulnerability in his eyes clearly cost him to reveal. "Talk to him. Just... stay close," he murmured.

I crossed the room.

The second I stepped close, Ethan’s hand snapped out. He clamped around my wrist.

The grip was brutal. But his guttural growls finally died down. His breathing stayed harsh, yet it slowed.

I perched on the mattress. I draped my hand over his and just talked. I babbled about nothing: the banquet, office gossip, Marcus being an absolute idiot.

Inch by inch, the rigid tension leaving Ethan's muscles bled away. Behind me, Tristan’s presence loomed. The air between the three of...