The storm outside hadn’t stopped all night. Lightning flared against the tall glass windows, throwing streaks of silver light across the penthouse. It painted Kieth in flashes — all sharp jawlines and shadows, a man carved by secrets and power.
Malia stood in front of him, heart racing, the air between them charged so thick she could barely breathe. The words he’d spoken still hung in the silence: If you’re in my war, you’re also in my bed.
She’d thought he was teasing. That he wanted to rattle her. But now, standing this close, she wasn’t so sure.
“Kieth,” she said, her voice barely steady. “This isn’t part of the plan.”
He tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “No,” he said quietly. “This is the part neither of us planned for.”
Her back met the cold edge of the table as he move
