The summer night air blowing in from the Long Island Sound was warm and heavy.
Inside the Duncan estate, the massive living room was quiet. Cordelia sat cross-legged on the plush rug, leaning over the low coffee table. The soft yellow glow of a floor lamp illuminated the architectural blueprints spread out before her.
She rubbed her temples, trying to focus, but the memory of Justice kissing her hand in the office kept hijacking her thoughts.
"Mommy."
Cordelia looked up.
Leo was walking toward her. He was wearing a pair of green dinosaur pajamas. In his small hands, he carefully balanced a plate with two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and a small glass of milk.
Cordelia's heart instantly melted. The maternal instinct she had suppressed for four years flooded her chest.
Leo climbed onto the sofa next to her. He picked up a cookie and held it right up to her lips.
"Eat, Mommy," Leo demanded softly.
Cordelia smiled. She leaned forward and took a bite of the warm cookie. "Thank you, baby. It's delicious."
From the doorway of the living room, Justice watched them.
He had just finished a three-hour international video conference. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt. His hair was slightly messy. He looked entirely different from the ruthless corporate killer he was during the day.
Leo caught sight of his father out of the corner of his eye.
The little boy's blue eyes darted between Cordelia and Justice. A mischievous, highly calculated spark flashed in Leo's gaze.
Leo suddenly jumped off the sofa, grabbing the glass of milk. He ran toward Justice.
Right as he reached his father, Leo dramatically tripped over his own feet.
The glass tipped forward. The cold milk splashed directly onto the lower half of Justice's white t-shirt.
"Oops," Leo said, looking up with wide, innocent eyes. He stuck his tongue out. "Daddy is clumsy."
Before Justice could say a word, Leo turned around and sprinted down the hallway toward his bedroom, giggling the whole way.
Justice let out a heavy sigh. He looked down at the soaked fabric clinging to his stomach.
He walked over to the sofa. Without a word of warning, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.
Cordelia looked up, and her breath caught in her throat.
Justice tossed the ruined shirt onto a chair. He stood under the warm light, completely bare-chested.
His shoulders were impossibly broad. His abdomen was carved with hard, defined muscle. But what caught Cordelia's eye were the faint, faded scars crisscrossing his ribs-marks of a violent past he had never spoken about.
Cordelia felt a sudden, intense heat rush to her cheeks. She quickly dropped her gaze back to the blueprints, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Justice didn't leave to change. He walked around the table and sat down on the rug right next to her.
The sofa cushions dipped under his weight. The intense, masculine scent of cedar and clean sweat instantly enveloped her.
He leaned forward, his bare arm brushing lightly against her shoulder.
Justice pointed a long finger at the center of her blueprint.
"The load-bearing wall here," Justice said, his voice low and serious. "If you shift the steel framework two feet to the left, you can open up the entire atrium without compromising the structural integrity of the upper floors."
Cordelia blinked in surprise. She looked at the spot he was pointing to.
She quickly did the math in her head. He was absolutely right. It was a brilliant structural solution.
"How do you know that?" Cordelia asked, turning her head to look at him.
"I don't just buy buildings, Cordelia," Justice said, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I know how they are built."
They started talking. The conversation flowed effortlessly from structural engineering to design philosophy. Cordelia found herself completely engrossed. His mind was sharp, analytical, and perfectly aligned with hers. It was a deep, intellectual connection she had never felt with Julian.
As she explained her vision for the glass facade, she looked up.
She realized Justice wasn't looking at the blueprints anymore. He was looking at her mouth.
The distance between them had vanished. Their faces were inches apart. She could feel the heat radiating from his bare chest. She could hear the slow, heavy rhythm of his breathing.
The air in the room suddenly felt thick and electric. The sound of the crickets outside faded away.
Justice's gaze was dark and heavy with raw desire, but he didn't move. He kept his hands planted on the floor. He was waiting. He was giving her the choice.
The walls Cordelia had built around her heart cracked. The memory of his brutal protection, his gentle touch on her bruised hand, and the way he looked at their son broke through her defenses.
Without thinking, Cordelia leaned forward.
She tilted her head up and pressed her lips against his.
The second her mouth touched his, a low, guttural groan vibrated deep in Justice's chest.
The restraint he had been holding onto snapped.
Justice brought his large hand up and cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her flush against his bare chest, taking complete control of the kiss.
It wasn't gentle. It was a desperate, consuming claiming. His lips parted hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, devouring her.
Cordelia gasped into his mouth. Her hands instinctively flew up, her palms pressing flat against the hard, hot muscle of his chest. Her fingers curled, her nails lightly scratching his skin as the kiss deepened.
Her stomach fluttered wildly. The physical chemistry between them was explosive, burning away the contract and the lies.
After what felt like an eternity, Justice slowly pulled back.
They were both breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against hers.
Justice raised his hand and gently brushed his thumb across her swollen lower lip.
"We are getting married next month," Justice whispered, his voice hoarse and rough. It wasn't a question about the contract anymore. It was a plea from a man who was completely obsessed.
Cordelia nodded. "Yes."
Meanwhile, down the long hallway, inside the brightly colored children's room, Leo was sitting cross-legged on a fluffy rug. He was quietly snapping Lego bricks together.
The moment Leo heard the faint, muffled sound of his father's deep voice drifting from the living room, his hands stopped moving.
The innocent, playful light in the four-year-old's eyes vanished completely. A flicker of cold, calculating intelligence, far beyond his years, briefly crossed his face before being replaced by his usual childish innocence.
Leo reached under his pillow and pulled out a thick, black smartwatch. It looked like a standard child's toy.
Leo tapped the screen. A bright cartoon face appeared.
His small fingers moved with lightning speed, tapping the corners of the screen in a highly complex, specific sequence.
The cartoon face glitched and disappeared. The screen turned pitch black, then loaded a military-grade encrypted messaging interface.
There was only one contact saved in the device.
The name was Grandpa.
Leo pulled up the keyboard. He didn't hesitate as he typed out a message.
The last Lego brick is on the castle.
Leo hit send.
He immediately went into the settings and wiped the local cache, erasing any trace of the message from the device's memory. The speed and precision of his actions were terrifying for a child.
He picked up a red Lego brick, his innocent facade perfectly restored, waiting for the final move.
