Chapter 1
The marble was colder than it looked.
Jax Reed felt the chill seep through the thin soles of his boots as he walked the east corridor of the Valtieri estate.
Every step was measured, quiet, the way he had trained himself to move in places where silence was currency.
He kept his shoulders loose, face blank, the picture of a new security consultant finishing his first late night sweep.
Inside his chest his heart knocked steady and hard against the tiny mic taped behind his ear.
“Eagle One, confirm visual on the study door,” the voice whispered, low and familiar. His handler never slept.
“Confirmed,” Jax breathed, lips barely parting. “Clear. No movement on the cameras I marked yesterday.”
He passed a tall arched window. Moonlight cut sharp silver bars across the black-and-white floor.
Outside, the gardens rolled into black nothing, perfect cover for trucks nobody was supposed to see arriving at three in the morning. Perfect cover for a man like him.
Three steps past the window he heard it. The quick bare feet slapping stone.
Coming fast.
Jax’s right hand twitched toward the Glock hidden at the small of his back. He forced it still. No sudden moves. Not here.
A flash of white cotton and dark hair rounded the corner at a full sprint.
Nico Valtieri.
The twenty-four years old son of the family. He's treated like the family’s fragile treasure.
He's dressed in loose sleep shirt slipping off one shoulder, pajama pants hanging low on narrow hips, bare feet silent now that he had slowed. He launched himself at Jax without a second of hesitation.
Arms locked around Jax’s waist like they belonged there. A warm cheek pressed hard to his chest. The top of Nico’s head tucked under Jax’s chin. He smelled like vanilla ice cream and clean cotton and something faintly metallic that Jax couldn’t place.
“Jax,” Nico said, voice bright and breathless and happy. “You’re back. I waited forever.”
Jax went rigid. Every instinct drilled into him over twelve years on the job screamed threat assessment, disengage, maintain cover.
The rest of him registered heat. Soft skin. A heartbeat thudding wildly against his ribs like it wanted to crawl inside him and live there.
Nico tilted his head back. Chin resting on Jax’s sternum. Wide dark eyes caught the hallway light and glittered.
“You were gone so long,” he said. The pout came fast, bottom lip pushing out. “I thought you forgot about me.”
His fingers curled into the front of Jax’s black button-down. Not tight. Not threatening.
Just… holding on.
Jax swallowed. “Nico. It’s late. You should be in bed.”
Nico’s smile bloomed, sweet and sudden. “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about you walking around all alone in the dark.” His hands slid down Jax’s sides, slow and curious, until they rested on his hips. “Come with me.”
Before Jax could answer Nico was already moving, tugging him backward with surprising strength for someone who looked so breakable.
Jax let himself be pulled. Refusing would draw attention. Attention was death in this house.
They turned left at the end of the corridor, passed the grand staircase, slipped through the swinging door into the kitchen.
The room was huge. Marble counters gleamed under low pendant lights. Stainless steel appliances reflected distorted versions of them both.
Nico let go of Jax’s shirt only long enough to hop onto the counter beside the double door fridge. His bare feet dangled. Shirt rode up again, showing a thin strip of skin above the waistband.
“Ice cream,” Nico announced like it was the most important secret in the world.
He leaned sideways, opened the freezer, pulled out a pint of something chocolate and caramel. The lid came off with a soft pop. He scooped a spoonful, held it out toward Jax’s mouth.
“Open,” he said softly.
Jax stared at the spoon. At the way Nico’s eyes had gone heavy-lidded. At the way his own pulse had kicked up another notch.
“I’m good,” Jax said.
Nico’s pout returned, deeper this time. “Please? Just one bite. For me.”
The spoon hovered. Chocolate dripped onto Nico’s thumb. He didn’t wipe it away.
Jax leaned in. Not because he wanted the ice cream. Because he needed to see how far this game went before it turned into something he couldn’t control.
He closed his lips around the spoon.
Nico watched his mouth the entire time. When Jax pulled back Nico’s tongue darted out and licked the chocolate off his own thumb. Slow. Deliberate.
“Good?” Nico whispered.
Jax’s throat felt tight. “Yeah.”
Nico smiled again, brighter than before. He scooped another bite for himself, then set the carton down.
His legs parted just enough that Jax ended up standing between them when he stepped closer.
“You’re warm,” Nico said. His hands found Jax’s waist again, fingers slipping under the hem of the button-down this time. Skin on skin. “I like how warm you are.”
Jax caught one of Nico’s wrists. Gentle. Firm. “Nico. We can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Nico tilted his head. Innocent. Curious. Dangerous. “Eat ice cream? Talk? Be close?”
His free hand slid higher, palm flat against Jax’s stomach, feeling the muscle jump under his touch.
Jax’s breath hitched. He should step back. He should say goodnight. He should remember the wire, the handler, the mission.
Instead he stayed exactly where he was.
Nico leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched.
“Stay a little longer,” he murmured. “Just until the ice cream melts.”
Jax looked down at the open carton on the counter. Chocolate was already softening at the edges, pooling dark and slow.
He looked back at Nico.
Nico’s eyes were locked on his mouth again.
And Jax realized, with a cold certainty that had nothing to do with the marble floor, that the real danger in this house wasn’t the guns or the shipments or the family secrets waiting to be uncovered.
The real danger was standing right in front of him, legs wrapped loosely around his hips now, smiling like he had already won.
