Chapter 6 - THE SHADOW OF THE DOCKS
The tension between them broke not with violence, but with a searing, breathless hunger. Griffin’s mouth crashed over hers with none of the caution from the ballroom. This was raw, possessive, a starving man taking what had been promised to him. Fay gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively rising to knot into his dark hair, pulling him closer as the world outside ceased to exist.
He lifted her easily onto the edge of the heavy desk, parting her knees, his large hands gripping her hips with bruising possessiveness. Every instinct Fay had honed over years of running—every defense mechanism built on distrust—crumbled beneath the heat of his touch. He wasn't just a monster of the underworld; he was the only man who had ever looked at her and seen someone worth protecting.
When he finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, both of them were breathing hard. Griffin’s thumb traced the swollen contour of her lower lip.
"You're playing with fire, little waitress," he murmured, his voice thick with raw emotion.
"I spent my whole life freezing in the dark, Mr. Hales," Fay whispered back, her fingers tracing the black panther tattoo on his throat. "A little fire doesn't scare me."
Before Griffin could answer, the red emergency phone on his desk shrieked with a shrill, piercing ring.
The moment shattered. Griffin’s eyes snapped back into sharp, calculating focus. He stepped back, reaching for the receiver, his voice dropping instantly into icy professional authority. "Speak."
Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted with gunfire and roaring engines. "Boss! It's Vance! He didn't wait for Celeste to signal! His men ambushed the Gary warehouse—they’ve set the perimeter ablaze and they're pushing toward the safehouse where your ledger is kept! We’re taking heavy casualties!"
"Fall back to the secondary gate," Griffin commanded, his jaw tightening. "I'm rolling out in five minutes with the strike team."
He slammed the receiver down, spinning toward the gun cabinet concealed behind the bookshelf. He pulled down heavy tactical vests, loading magazines into assault rifles with mechanical precision.
"You stay here," Griffin said, not looking at her. "The house is on total lockdown. Even with a tank, Vance can't breach this estate without thirty minutes of heavy artillery. You have food, water, and twenty armed men on the perimeter."
"Griffin, wait," Fay said, jumping off the desk, rushing to catch his sleeve. "The man from the VIP room—Dominic Vance. When I heard him talking to Celeste, he said something else."
Griffin paused, an M4 rifle held in his hands, staring down at her. "What did he say?"
"He said, 'Tell the rat inside the gate to light the fuse when Griffin leaves.'" Fay’s voice shook with terrifying realization. "He doesn't want the warehouse in Gary, Griffin! The warehouse is a distraction! He wants you to leave this house so his inside man can open the gates from the inside!"
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Griffin’s face went completely still.
A split second later, a deafening explosion ripped through the front courtyard of the mansion. The shockwave shattered the leaded-glass windows of the study, showering the room in glittering shrapnel and throwing Fay violently to the floor.
