Rafael saw them by accident.

Or perhaps fate had simply grown tired of subtlety.

The corridor outside the executive suites was quiet, washed in pale amber light that made everything feel unreal—like a memory forming even as it happened. Rafael had come up to deliver documents he no longer trusted anyone else to carry. The kind of papers that could ruin a man if they ended up in the wrong hands. Davin’s hands.

He slowed when he heard voices.

Not raised. Not arguing.

Lower. Intimate.

Ethan’s voice—rougher than usual, stripped of its usual control.

Alyssa’s—quiet, fractured, dangerous.

Rafael stopped before the glass wall at the end of the hall, reflexively...