Ethan had always believed he was good at control—controlling his tone, his impulses, his image, his empire. But nothing, absolutely nothing, had prepared him for the sight of Alyssa walking out of the Asterion Hotel’s private tearoom with Davin’s scent clinging faintly to her skin and a ghost of a smile that didn’t belong to him.

A smile that wasn’t fear.

Wasn’t anger.

But something far more dangerous.

Something like… challenge.

Ethan froze in the lobby, the bustling world around him blurring into meaningless noise. Alyssa paused when she noticed him, though she didn’t look surprised.

“Ethan,” she said calmly. Too calmly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped forward, fists...