Chapter 245: EPILOGUE 2

The kiss lacked all hesitation. It was a bruising, dominant claim. I opened for him. I tangled my fingers in his dark hair. I pulled him closer.

He slid his hands down my back, gripping my hips. He lifted me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He set me down on the edge of the desk.

He pressed his solid frame against my body. The tailored wool of his suit provided a stark contrast to the burning heat underneath. He bit my lower lip. He tasted of black coffee and raw dominance. We own the building. We own the firm. We own each other. The dominant dynamic thrives in the quiet moments.

He broke the kiss. He trailed his mouth down my jawline. He pressed his lips against the erratic pulse beating in my neck.

"The board meets in an hour," I reminded him. My breath hitched as his teeth scraped my collarbone.

"Let them wait," Sebastian grated.

He reached for the buttons of my silk blouse. His calloused fingers undid the fabric with practiced precision. He pushed the silk off my shoulders. The cool air of the office hit my heated skin.

He stepped between my knees. He pulled my hips forward, aligning our bodies. The friction ignited a fire in my core. I dragged my nails down his broad back. I felt the hard ridges of muscle beneath his suit jacket.

He did not treat me like fragile glass. He knew I survived the same horrors. He knew I drove a blade into a man's neck to ensure we both walked out of the siege alive. We shared the guilt. We shared the victory.

"You belong to me," Sebastian commanded. He looked into my eyes. He demanded the verbal submission.

"I am yours," I breathed.

He kissed me again. He poured a year of undisputed control into the contact. He replaced the memories of the dark stairwells and the federal judges with the sheer, blinding heat of the present. The climax built in my chest, a tight coil of tension ready to snap.

A sharp, jarring noise shattered the silence.

The encrypted phone in the inner pocket of his suit jacket vibrated. The device operated on a closed, secure network. Only three people possessed the routing number. Bob. The head of our international smuggling ring. And me.

Sebastian froze. His jaw locked.

He did not ignore the call. We do not ignore the secure line.

He pulled back. He reached into his jacket and retrieved the black device. He checked the screen. An unknown sequence of numbers flashed on the display. An encrypted origin.

The relaxed posture vanished. The lethal tension snapped back into his frame.

He answered the call. He placed the speaker to his ear. He did not offer a greeting. He listened.

I watched his face. The gray eyes turned pitch black. The ice returned to his stare. The predator woke up.

"Confirm the casualties," Sebastian ordered.

He waited in silence. The ticking of the wall clock sounded loud in the quiet room.

"Lock down the western transit hubs," Sebastian commanded. The tone of his voice left zero room for error. "I want a full tactical team ready in ten minutes."

He ended the call. He slid the phone back into his pocket.

The peace ended. I felt my pulse accelerate. The boredom evaporated from my system. A cold, fierce thrill ignited in my blood.

"What happened?" I asked. I slipped off the desk. I pulled my silk blouse back over my shoulders and fastened the buttons.

"A new syndicate from the coast," Sebastian stated. His voice sounded like grinding stones. "They ambushed our rail line in the desert. They derailed a freight train. They executed our transit crew."

They struck our grid. They challenged our control. They wanted to test the strength of the Wolfe and Presley union.

"Come with me," Sebastian said.

He took my hand. We walked toward the rear of the executive suite. We reached the heavy glass doors leading to the private terrace. He pushed the handle down.

We stepped outside.

The cold wind hit my face. We stood seventy stories above the city grid. The concrete stretched out in every direction. The neon signs of the commercial district glowed against the gray sky. The harbor waters reflected the steel cranes of our shipping docks.

We looked down at the arteries of our business. The trucks moving cargo. The trains hauling freight. We control the flow. We dictate the terms.

Sebastian stood beside me. He rested his hands on the thick glass railing. The wind whipped his dark hair. He looked at the skyline. He did not look like a man at rest. He looked like a man preparing to burn a rival to the ground.

We fought a brutal siege to stand on this balcony. We paid the toll in blood and shattered glass. We do not surrender our territory.

"They destroyed our train," I said.

"They made a miscalculation," Sebastian replied.

"They do not know our rules."

Sebastian turned his head. He looked at me. The wind caught the collar of his charcoal suit. He offered a dark, terrifying smile.

"We will teach them," Sebastian promised.

I looked out at the sprawling city. The storm clouds gathered on the horizon, dark and heavy with rain. A new conflict approached. A new threat tested the borders.

I smiled back. We stood together. The cages were gone. The shadows disappeared. We owned the top floor. We owned the streets below.

Let them come.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone,

Reaching the end of a 245-chapter journey is a massive learning experience. While the story took on a life of its own and didn't unfold exactly as I first envisioned it, I am so incredibly grateful for the experience and to all of you. Your reads, comments, and unwavering support mean the absolute world to me.

If you are experiencing a bit of a book hangover now that this story has come to a close, you can always dive into some of my other works! If you love high stakes, intense drama, and great romance, check these out:

• My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy

• Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me

Thank you again for riding out this wild, chaotic, and magical journey with me. I couldn't have done it without you.

Love,

Rosehipstea