Night fell heavy on Verrin, the kind that swallowed color and left only pulse.
Lang House reopened sooner than anyone thought possible. Rafe Lang called it a "rebirth party." The rest of the city called it reckless.
Ava called it bait.
She arrived first. Black dress, hair pinned high, the look of a woman who had already survived fire and might start another if necessary.
Security scanned her twice, but they knew better than to slow her down. Inside, the club's light throbbed like a heartbeat, blue, red, gold. The crowd was a fever that moved to music.
Liam entered through the back door, the kind used by staff and men who didn't like being seen. He was there to protect her, though they had never agreed on what that word meant. His comm buzzed once in her ear. "You're early."
"I wanted to see the stage before it burns again."
The plan was simple: find the buyer of the Velvet File, make contact, and get out before anyone recognized the pair the news had been hunting all week.
Rafe met her at the bar with his trademark grin. "Didn't expect you to actually show."
"I'm full of surprises," she said, taking the drink, he offered.
"Careful," he said. "I mix truth serum in mine."
"I prefer poison," she answered.
From above, Liam watched every move, scanning the crowd. Then he saw Mara Lang, Rafe's wife, partner, and mirror, gliding through the dancers, eyes cold, smile perfect. She caught him watching and tilted her glass in greeting. There were no innocent gestures in this room.
Ava stepped into the shadowed alcove, the bass from the dance floor fading to a distant thrum. Liam waited, his eyes dark with unspoken need. "Security cam is blind here," he murmured, voice low and rough.
She closed the distance between them, her dress brushing against his legs as she stepped into his space. "You checked?" she asked, her tone challenging but breathless.
"Twice." The word was a caress against her cheek as he touched her jaw, slow and deliberate. She tilted her head, inviting more. The air between them crackled with tension that had been building since their narrow escape.
Her fingers found his collar, pulling him down until her back pressed against the cold wall. The kiss was anything but polite - it was a collision of pent-up hunger and adrenaline, teeth catching at lips, tongues tasting expensive liquor and desperation. She arched against him, the silk of her dress whispering against his shirt as he pressed her harder into the wall.
His hands roamed her body, fingers tracing the curve of her waist before slipping beneath the fabric of her dress. She gasped into his mouth as his thumb found her nipple, already hard through the thin material of her bra. "Fuck," he growled against her neck, teeth nipping at sensitive skin.
She fumbled with his belt, urgent need making her clumsy. He took over, unzipping his pants with one hand while the other cupped her ass, lifting her until she wrapped her legs around his hips. The head of his cock found her entrance, and she moaned as he filled her in one swift thrust.
"Christ, Ava," he hissed, holding her against the wall. She locked her ankles behind his back, meeting every powerful thrust with a roll of her hips. The music from the club throbbed around them, the beat matching the rhythm of their bodies.
Her breath came in short gasps against his neck, each one a mixture of his name and curses. He drove into her harder, fingers digging into her thighs as he fought for control. She was close, the pressure building until she clamped down around him, her orgasm ripping through her with a cry that was swallowed by the music.
He followed moments later, hips jerking against her as he came. They stayed locked together, breathing harsh in the silence of their hiding place, the reality of what they'd done sinking in with every passing second.
Ava straightened her dress; Liam fixed his sleeve. No words, just the look of people who had remembered something dangerous.
"Feel better?" he asked quietly.
"Worse," she said. "Now I'll want it again."
They returned to the floor separately. Rafe caught her arm before she reached the table. "Your buyer's here." He nodded toward a man in a silver suit by the DJ booth, still and smiling while everyone else moved.
Ava approached him, letting the music sway her enough to blend in.
The man turned before she spoke. "You have what belongs to me."
"I have many things that belong to many men."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Only one interests me." He slipped a coin-sized chip into her hand and vanished into the moving crowd.
Liam's voice whispered through her earpiece. "Got it?"
"Yes."
"Get out."
She started toward the exit, but Rafe blocked her path, hand on her shoulder. "You're playing with ghosts, Ava."
"Better ghosts than liars."
Mara appeared beside him, gaze sweeping over Ava. "And which are you tonight?"
"The one who still has something to lose," Ava said, brushing past.
In the corridor beyond the main room, the air was cooler. She slipped the micro-drive into her purse and looked up. Liam waited by the door to the alley. "We're clear," he said. "For now."
Before she could answer, the floor trembled, a muffled boom rippling through the walls. Screams followed. Smoke poured from the stairwell. The club descended into panic again.
Liam grabbed her hand. "Move!"
They pushed through bodies and flashing lights, emerging into the night as another explosion tore through the loading bay. Fire alarms wailed above the roar of the crowd.
Ava looked back once, hair wild, breath sharp. "Someone really hates after-parties."
"Or they wanted to erase proof," Liam said, pulling her toward the car.
They drove until the city noise thinned to whispers. The skyline behind them glowed red, a false sunrise.
When they stopped, she leaned back against the seat, eyes closed.
"That chip cost us too much," she said.
"Then it'd better tell us who's next."
Distant thunder rolled across the river.
Ava brushed a lock of hair from her face and whispered, "We're not done, are we?"
Liam shook his head. "Not even close."
The fire at Lang House kept burning long after the flames were gone.
By morning, the air above the district smelled of melted steel and secrets.
Reporters had surrounded the block, drones buzzing like insects over a corpse.
Rafe Lang stood on the club's rooftop watching smoke crawl into the clouds.
Behind him, Mara moved through the wreckage of their private lounge, picking shards of glass out of a photo frame.
"They'll rebuild," she said. Her tone made it sound like a threat.
Rafe lit a cigarette. "They'll bury us first."
"Maybe they already did."
She held up the photo, their grand-opening night, both of them younger, unscarred, smiling for the cameras.
"Don't start the nostalgia play," he muttered.
"I'm not." She set the frame down, the crack across it splitting their faces apart. "I'm wondering when we stopped being the story and started being someone else's collateral."
He looked at her then, really looked. "You knew the buyers, Mara. You booked them."
"And you served them drinks," she shot back. "We're both dirty."
They stared at each other through the smoke curling between them.
Neither blinked first.
Across town, Ava and Liam hid in a rented flat by the river, both staring at the same corrupted drive that had cost too many lives. It wasn't yielding anything new, only half-sentences and dead codes.
While they argued quietly about whether to risk another decryption attempt, Verrin's rumor mill crowned them the lovers who burned the club down.
The lie worked better than the truth; it kept real enemies off-balance.
At dusk, the Langs met again in what was left of their VIP room. Rain slipped through the broken ceiling, tapping the marble bar in slow rhythm.
Mara poured the last of a bottle into two glasses. "To our funeral," she said.
Rafe clinked hers, half amused. "If this is hell, at least we built the decor."
They drank. The silence between them stretched and thinned until it hummed.
Their argument erupted into something primal, a collision of bodies and desires too long denied.
Mara slammed him against the bar, her fingers clawing at his shirt until it hung in tatters, revealing the muscled terrain of his chest. He retaliated by tearing her blouse open, the lace of her bra offering little resistance before he pushed it aside, exposing her breasts to the rain that streamed through the shattered skylight. Droplets glistened on her skin, tracing paths between her breasts before disappearing into the waistband of her soaked jeans.
"You're fucking mine," he growled, capturing her nipple between his teeth while his fingers worked at her zipper. The denim clung to her thighs as he dragged it down, revealing the wet silk of her panties. He groaned at the sight, pressing his face against the damp fabric to inhale her arousal.
She fisted his hair, arching against him. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice husky with need.
With a snarl, he spun her around, bending her over the bar. The cold marble against her bare breasts made her gasp as he yanked her panties down, exposing her glistening pussy. He stroked her with one finger, then two, spreading her juices before thrusting them into her mouth when she turned her head to watch him.
"Suck," he ordered, and she obeyed, tasting her own arousal on his digits as he worked her clit with his thumb.
She writhed against the bar, her hips pushing back against his hard cock straining against his jeans. He obliged her silent demand, freeing himself with a groan before positioning himself at her entrance.
"You want this?" he taunted, rubbing the head of his cock through her folds, coating himself in her wetness.
"Fuck me like you mean it," she snapped, pushing back against him impatiently.
He obliged with a single powerful thrust that buried him to the hilt, her pussy clenching around him like a vice. She cried out, the sound echoing off the ruined walls as he began to move, each stroke deep and relentless.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "To be fucked like the selfish bitch you are?"
She moaned, the sound caught between pain and pleasure. "Harder," she demanded, meeting his thrusts with abandon.
He obliged, pounding into her with enough force to make the bar shudder. The sound of their wet flesh colliding filled the room, punctuated by her gasps and his guttural grunts. When he reached around to stroke her clit, her legs began to tremble.
"Come for me," he demanded, his fingers working her swollen bud mercilessly. "Show me how much you fucking love this."
She came with a scream, her pussy clenching around him as he continued to thrust through her orgasm. When her legs gave out, he pulled her upright, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other continued to stroke her clit.
"Again," he growled against her ear, biting the lobe before trailing kisses down her neck.
She was too far gone to refuse, her body responding to his touch with a second, more powerful climax that had her sobbing his name. Only then did he allow himself to come, filling her with hot spurts of cum as he bit down on her shoulder, marking her as his.
When their breathing finally slowed, he eased out of her, his cum dripping down her thighs as she straightened. When it was over, she pressed her forehead to his chest, both of them breathing hard, the city thunder echoing their pulse.
Afterward, they didn't speak. Rafe refilled both glasses, and they watched the fire crews pack up below.
"Tomorrow they'll say we're guilty," he said.
"They already do."
"Then we make it useful."
She glanced at him. "Meaning?"
"Meaning we sell the truth to whoever pays more for it."
Mara smiled faintly. "You still think you're the only devil in this marriage."
Meanwhile, Ava and Liam reached the top floor of an unfinished hotel on the east side—their latest hideout. The night stretched ahead of them, too quiet, too bright. They stood by the window, city lights flickering across their faces.
"They'll come again," she said.
"Let them."
"Bravado doesn't suit you."
"Neither does surrender."
A soft knock broke the standoff. A courier envelope lay outside the door—no name, just the symbol of a white raven stamped in wax. Inside: a single flash drive and a note that read, "Revenant sees you."
Liam exhaled. "We're being herded."
"Then we find who's holding the leash."
Outside, thunder rolled. Somewhere far below, Rafe and Mara's rooftop lights went dark, cutting the skyline in half.
Ava closed the curtain. "Tomorrow, we divide and hunt."
Liam nodded once. "Together, separately."