Page 87 of Stormhold

“Why did you do it all behind my back? You should’ve fucking come to me, Gray. I would’ve fucking handled this.”

“I didn’t have a choice. They were fucking going to hurt Fi,” he gritted out through his teeth.

Fucking Fiona. Grayson worshipped the floor she walked on.

“She doesn’t have a scratch on her skin,” I reminded him, my gaze hardening. “She didn’t even fucking know she was in danger.” They simply sent a photo of her sitting in a café with some friends, and Grayson thought they had gotten to her.

“That bitch doesn’t even love you.” Jon glared at him.

Grayson said nothing, staring into space.

“Do you know who he is?” I asked, my nerves on edge.

“No.” His eyes fell to the floor. He looked defeated. “No, Kane. I’m sorry.”

Although Grayson let his anger get the best of him, he was the most honest person I knew. He was too impatient to be the White Hand. And the White Hand knew his weakness and used it well.

So who else could it be?

My head spun over everything. It didn’t matter how hard I tried—that fucker was always one step ahead of me.

But soon, I swore, I would end him even if I had to end myself in the process.

BELLE

“You’ve been working hard,” I said softly as I dropped down to a seat next to Arkane. Leaning forward with my palms on my cheeks, I watched him like he was my favorite art.

Though the recent event didn’t nudge his hard exterior, I could tell Alessio’s loss fractured something in him. He seemed to have fully immersed himself in his work. During the day, he worked every second to find the White Hand, and at night, he stayed awake, his shoulder hunched in tension, his face fixed in concentration as he worked on his obsession. Weapon engineering.

I had no clue what he was doing with all the complicated machinery and equations, but it was fascinating just to sit there and watch him work. His lips would curl adorably whenever he got stuck on something.

I found myself in his presence more often. Almost every day and night, I even used his bedroom on the loft as my own. It was easy for our lives to merge. He didn’t complain, and I felt peaceful with him. It was like we created our own world here underneath all the chaos. And my feelings for him only grew. I could tell the lingering looks, the lasting touches, and the contentment of each other’s presence weren’t one-sided.

But Arkane hadn’t made any move or suggested otherwise, so I didn’t know what to make of it.

“It keeps my mind busy,” Arkane finally answered me, sliding a small smile my way.

“Everyone wants the opposite,” I muttered.

He shrugged.

I gawked at him for five more minutes before I announced that I was going to shower before dinner, and the only acknowledgment he gave me was another smile. And it did nothing good for my heart.

Deciding to borrow one of his T-shirts, I went to his expansive closet, where every piece of clothing he owned was only in shades of black and gray. I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I decided on one of his soft sweaters I preferred. Only when my hand went to grab it, instead of the hanger, I grabbed the material itself. The difference in the force I used made me stumble, and I went toppling over all his clothes.

Uh-oh.

In the darkness, my hands searched for the wall to hoist myself up, but instead they tapped on something hard. It was followed by a whirl that swished through the air, catching me off guard as it cast the closet in a dull yellow light.

Frowning, I turned, and the back of the closet, which was once supposed to be a wall, was now open. Was it some kind of secret room?

Back on my feet, I proceeded to close the door, not wanting to intrude on Arkane’s privacy, when the sight of it made me pause.

I had never seen it before, but just one look at it, and I knew exactly what it was. The more I stared at it, the more my heart raced, and suddenly, I questioned every instance of my life ever since I met Arkane. And it wasn’t a feeling I liked. At all.

Swallowing, I headed back into the living space, and every step I took felt like weighted anchors. Just as I rounded the corner, his back came into view, and for some reason, the sight clogged my throat. And I stood there behind him, not being able to say a word.

As if feeling my presence, his eyes found me. “Bella?” He frowned, noting the look on my face.