Julian refused anesthesia until the safe-house physician finished treating Nico.

“It’s a shallow cut,” Nico said from the examination table. “He has a hole in his shoulder.”

The physician glanced toward Julian.

Julian sat in a chair across the room, his shirt cut open and blood running beneath the temporary dressing.

“Finish with him,” Julian said.

“You’re not in charge of triage,” Nico replied.

“I’m in charge of this house.”

“It’s a safe house.”

“It is my safe house.”

“Then your safe house has terrible magazines.”

The physician closed Nico’s wound with six stitches.

Only after she confirmed there was no internal damage did Julian allow her to remove the blade from his shoulder.

Nico stayed.

Julian told him to leave twice.

Nico ignored him both times.

The blade had entered above the shoulder joint and missed the major vessels, but removing it exposed torn muscle. Julian’s face lost color as the physician irrigated and closed the wound.

He did not make a sound.

Nico stood beside the table, watching his hand tighten around the edge.

“Very dramatic,” Nico said quietly.

Julian looked up.

“You can leave.”

“And miss the moment you discover you’re mortal?”

“I discovered that years ago.”

The answer held no humor.

Nico remembered the exploded car beneath the West Side Highway.

Jonathan Vance.

Isabella Russo.

Two dead parents tied to one stolen identity.

The physician finished the bandage.

“He needs rest, antibiotics, and limited movement. If he develops fever, numbness, or increased bleeding, call me immediately.”

“I have meetings,” Julian said.

“You have an injured shoulder.”

“I can have both.”

Nico took the medication from the physician.

“He’ll rest.”

Julian’s eyes narrowed.

The physician looked between them and chose survival.

“I’ll return tomorrow.”

When the door closed, Julian stood.

Pain crossed his face before he hid it.

Nico blocked the exit.

“Sit down.”

“You are not giving me orders.”

“Good. Now you know how it feels.”

“Nico.”

“No.”

Julian became still.

Nico held up the antibiotics.

“You climbed into an occupied law school during an armed attack, took a knife meant for me, and now you intend to go to a meeting?”

“Yes.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have done since marrying me.”

“Marrying you prevented a war.”

“It appears to have scheduled several smaller ones.”

Julian stepped around him.

Nico caught his uninjured arm.

Julian stopped.

Nico released him immediately.

“Sit,” he said again, quieter this time. “Please.”

The word changed the request.

Julian looked at the sofa.

Then sat.

Nico brought water and the prescribed medication.

Julian swallowed the pills.

“That was suspiciously easy,” Nico said.

“I understand medical instructions.”

“You ignored the doctor thirty seconds ago.”

“I understand them. I did not say I obey them.”

Nico sat at the opposite end of the sofa.

The safe house occupied the upper floor of a converted warehouse near the Brooklyn waterfront. The windows were reinforced. The furniture was older and softer than anything in Julian’s penthouse.

Rain moved against the glass.

Marcus had taken the captured attacker to another secured room. Sofia was checking the Columbia incident with federal contacts. No one had located Victor.

For the first time since the Russo estate, Nico and Julian were alone without an immediate audience.

Julian looked at the bandage beneath Nico’s borrowed black shirt.

“You should not have gone to campus.”

“And there it is.”

“The attackers used the hearing to isolate you.”

“They also exposed themselves.”

“You nearly died.”

“So did you.”

“That is different.”

Nico laughed without amusement.

“Because your life is more valuable?”

“Because I chose the risk.”

“And I didn’t?”

“You chose to prove you could defy me.”

“I chose not to surrender the rest of my life because someone threatened it.”

Julian stood again.

His face tightened from the movement.

“You will leave New York tonight.”

Nico stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“There is a property in Maine. Marcus will take you by private plane.”

“No.”

“The ledger can be accessed remotely.”

“I said no.”

“This is not a negotiation.”

“It stopped being one the moment you tried to send me away.”

Julian crossed the room.

“I cannot protect you while you insist on walking into exposed locations.”

“I protected myself before you arrived.”

“You were bleeding.”

“You were stabbed.”

“Because you pushed me.”

Nico went silent.

Julian’s control cracked at last.

“I watched that blade come down where your throat had been,” he said. “Do you understand what I thought?”

“That you might lose the ledger?”

Julian’s expression changed.

The cruelty of Nico’s answer landed between them.

Nico knew immediately that he had struck the wrong wound.

But Julian had already rebuilt the wall.

“Yes,” he said. “The ledger.”

He turned away.

Nico hated the victory.

He hated the distance more.

“Julian.”

“Pack what you need.”

“No.”

Julian faced him again.

“I will have Marcus carry you onto the plane if necessary.”

“And violate the contract?”

“To keep you alive.”

“You don’t get to call control protection every time you’re afraid.”

Julian’s eyes flashed.

“I am not afraid.”

Nico stepped closer.

“You invaded my family’s home with twelve armed men because you were afraid of what the ledger contained.”

Julian said nothing.

“You put cameras in every room because you’re afraid someone will reach you first. You control the food, the elevators, the cars, the doors, the people around you.”

“Enough.”

“You grabbed me because you were afraid I’d refuse you.”

“I said enough.”

“And now you’re sending me away because you’re afraid you’ll fail to protect me.”

Julian seized the front of Nico’s shirt with his uninjured hand.

Nico did not resist.

They stood chest to chest.

Julian’s breathing had changed.

The hand holding Nico’s shirt trembled once.

Not with weakness.

With restraint.

“You know nothing about what I fear,” Julian said.

“Then tell me.”

Julian released him.

Nico caught his wrist before he could retreat.

“Tell me why you were already tracing Ghost five years ago.”

Julian looked at Nico’s hand around him.

This time, Nico did not let go.

“I saw you at the Belmont auction,” Julian said.

Nico remembered the event.

A private sale beneath an abandoned Brooklyn theater. Criminal brokers, stolen data, weapons routes, financial identities. Nico had entered wearing a mask and left after destroying the auction’s payment server.

“You never saw my face.”

“I saw enough.”

“What does that mean?”

“You moved through a room full of men who would have killed you if they knew what you were doing. You smiled at them. You stole every transaction on the server and left them blaming one another.”

Nico’s grip loosened.

“You knew I was Ghost?”

“I suspected.”

“For five years?”

“Yes.”

“And you never came after me?”

“I watched.”

The word moved through Nico like heat.

“That’s not better.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Julian looked at him with a directness more intimate than touch.

“Because you were the first person I had ever seen walk into a room I controlled and make it yours.”

Nico could not find a joke quickly enough.

Julian continued.

“When the ledger resurfaced through Columbia, I knew it was you.”

“So you invaded the estate.”

“Yes.”

“You called me an asset.”

“Yes.”

“You dragged me into your car.”

“Yes.”

“And now you want to put me on a plane.”

“Yes.”

Nico stepped closer until almost no space remained.

“You’re terrible at wanting someone.”

Julian’s gaze dropped to his mouth.

“I did not say I wanted you.”

“Your pulse did.”

Julian’s jaw tightened.

Nico reached up and caught the end of Julian’s black tie.

He wound it once around his fingers.

Julian did not touch him.

Did not move.

Did not take what Nico was offering.

The restraint was more dangerous than force.

Nico pulled him down slightly.

“Then stop ordering me to leave.”

Julian’s breath touched his lips.

“If you stay, I cannot promise this ends cleanly.”

“Nothing about us started cleanly.”

“Nico.”

It was a warning.

It was also a question.

Nico shortened the final inch between them.

The kiss began as another challenge.

Julian remained motionless for one heartbeat, allowing Nico every opportunity to pull away.

Then his hand rose slowly to Nico’s face.

It stopped before contact.

“May I?”

Nico’s chest tightened.

“Yes.”

Julian touched him.

His palm settled against Nico’s jaw without pressure, nothing like the grip at the Russo estate. Nico kissed him again, harder.

Julian’s control broke differently this time.

His mouth moved against Nico’s with suppressed hunger, but every touch remained measured. Nico pulled him closer by the tie, careful of the injured shoulder.

Julian made a low sound against his mouth.

The sound nearly destroyed Nico’s ability to think.

A phone vibrated on the table.

Neither moved.

It vibrated again.

Julian pulled back first, his forehead resting briefly against Nico’s.

“Marcus.”

“I hate Marcus.”

“You liked him yesterday.”

“I’ve grown.”

Julian answered the phone.

Marcus spoke loudly enough for Nico to hear.

“We identified the man who issued the Columbia credentials.”

Julian’s expression hardened.

“Who?”

“Adrian Cross.”

The room went cold.

Marcus continued.

“But Adrian didn’t authorize the assassination payment. That came from Elena Vance’s private account.”

Nico looked at Julian.

His hand still held Julian’s tie.

Julian’s fingers remained against Nico’s face.

For the first time, neither man knew which one of them had married into the more dangerous family.