The knife felt heavier than it should have.

Alyssa stood in the shadowed hallway outside Davin’s private suite, fingers wrapped around the cold handle hidden inside her coat. The hotel was one of his favorites—exclusive, discreet, guarded by men who knew better than to ask questions. She had walked past them without resistance. Davin had ordered it so.

He wanted her here.

The realization burned hotter than fear.

She exhaled slowly, steadying her pulse. Rage was useful, but only if it obeyed. Tonight, it threatened to slip the leash.

She knocked once.

The door opened almost immediately.

Davin stood there as if he had been waiting inches away, sleeves rolled...