Marlowe
"You have no idea what you're threatening." My voice came out steadier than I expected, ten years of practiced calm finally finding a use that had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with standing my ground. "This isn't about embarrassment, Grant. This is about my life. King's life. Half this club's safety, if the wrong people find out what you're threatening to say out loud."
"Dramatic."
"Accurate." I stepped closer, refusing to let the old dynamic between us — his casual cruelty, my practiced smallness — reassert itself now, of all moments. "You want to be angry that I built something you were too scared to try for? Fine. Be angry. But you don't get to hold my safety hostage because you're jealous of what I earned while you sat home drinking and blaming everyone e
