Kaia stood in the grand sitting room of Damion’s mansion, her manicured nails tapping lightly against the phone in her hand. The room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the antique clock on the mantle. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she dialed a familiar number.

The line rang twice before a deep, authoritative voice answered, “Kaia.”

“Mr. Ryder,” Kaia purred, her voice smooth and controlled. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Is everything under control?” ...