Silence pressed against the room like a living thing.

Damian Cross stood there cold, unmoving his gaze fixed on the woman by the window.

Aria Carter.

His wife.

His enemy.

His biggest distraction.

The faint silver of moonlight fell across her figure, catching the glimmer of her hair, the defiance in her eyes, and the venom wrapped in that soft, almost wistful voice.

“I’ll make you fall for me, Damian Cross,” she whispered, unaware that he was watching. “Just so I can break you the way you broke me.”

Something in him snapped.

She turned slightly—too late.

Their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The air grew thick with...