Raven barely slept that night as she lay beside Jaxon in his bedroom in the penthouse, his arm heavy across her waist, his breathing slow and steady, a deceptive calm masking the violence coiled inside him. After Zane’s latest stunt, after the child-shaped threat that lingered like a ghost, Jaxon had turned more dangerous than ever, and Evelyn Morreau’s shadow had stretched long over everything.
The Morreau matriarch was elegant, untouchable and if Jaxon’s instincts were right, she was rotten to the bone.
Raven slid carefully from the bed, her feet making no sound on the polished wood floor. Jaxon didn’t stir, though she knew better than to believe he was fully asleep. He allowed her these midnight wanderings, as if curious to see what she’d do with them.
Her laptop was waiting in the s
