Monica left quietly, closing the door behind her. The penthouse fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Kai's soft babbling as he played with the buttons on Malachi's shirt.
Salome watched them—this dangerous man holding her son with such careful tenderness—and something inside her finally cracked open.
"I need to tell you something," she said quietly.
Malachi's eyes sharpened. "You don't have to—"
"I do." She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Because if we're doing this—if Kai and I are staying—you need to know what you're getting into."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, Kai still in his arms. "Okay."
Salome took a breath. Then another.
"I met Demarcus when I was eighteen," she began. "At a friend's birthday party. He was charming. Funny. He made me
