The one-room shack offered no real rest. Aria sat on the edge of the narrow bed, Emma’s head in her lap, gently pressing a fresh bandage to her sister’s shoulder wound. The girl had finally fallen into a feverish sleep, her breathing shallow but steady. Rogue paced the cramped space like a caged wolf, his massive frame making the walls feel even closer. Every few steps his boot brushed Aria’s leg. Forced proximity in this tiny refuge left no room for distance — physically or emotionally.
“The capital summit,” Rogue muttered, checking the map on the stolen phone again. “Three days. Neutral ground for the big players — politicians, cartel bosses, club presidents. Your father and the DA were just middlemen. The man at the top wants you there as leverage. Public humiliation. A message that no
