Naomi fought against her emotions. Against the searing heat that coursed through her body, at first only where he touched her, then spreading everywhere. It was so tempting to let herself be swept away, to forget everything.

But she couldn't. She'd been putting this off for far too long. As his lips trailed along her neck and his hands were trapped between her breasts and her shirt, she lifted her lower leg and drew the dagger hidden inside her boot. Her fingers wrapped around it with confidence.

She brought it up, tilting her head to give him better access to her collarbone. She maneuvered the blade behind her back.

It was time to take control.

Grabbing his head, she exposed his throat, planting kisses along the line where she would soon slide the knife. A shudder of disgust ran through her; in her imagination, she could already taste the blood.

His hands kept kneading her breasts, firm and unrelenting. The desire coursing through her body urged her to put the weapon away, whispering that she could give so much more, take so much more...

But if they kept going, her boots would come off. The knife would be out of reach.

No. She had to act now.

Her son's life depended on it.

Three, two little kisses along his neck. One last kiss on his lips.

She didn't make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Instead, she brought the knife up and slashed at his throat.

His knee rammed into her stomach, sending her stumbling backward. His hands slid out from under her shirt.

Naomi gritted her teeth against the pain and struck again.

The knife bit into the flesh of his upper arm, but he didn't flinch. His eyes were cold, unyielding, like the messenger of death.

Despair began to creep in. With a growl and a sob, she lunged again.

He caught her arm, twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop the knife.

Then his fingers closed around her throat, squeezing.

Naomi kicked at his shins, clawed at his arms. It was useless. All the while, those dark eyes bore into her, devoid of any emotion.

He was a killing machine—and his instincts had saved him.

"Don't think I'm the kind of man who doesn't kill women," he said through gritted teeth. "Because I do, if they're rotten to the core."

He released her, shoving her away. Then he picked up the knife.

His gaze pinned her in place.

Naomi clutched at her throat, gasping for air. Every breath scraped against her lungs. But that was nothing compared to the pain clawing deep within her.

She had failed.

There would be no second chance.

She dropped to her knees, collapsing onto the hard dirt road. Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair.

"They have our son," she whispered. "And if I don't do what they say..."

He knelt in front of her, studying her intently. The anger in his eyes was gone. "Tell me everything. Now. And believe me—I'll know if you lie."

Her shoulders sagged. She saw no way out anymore. At this moment, telling him the truth seemed like the only way to save her son. Her lower lip trembled. "We have another son," she said softly, unable to meet his eyes. "Even Foss doesn't know. He was taken from me a year after he was born. By Hana. As soon as I graduated, she started assigning me targets. If I didn't kill them, she'd cut off a part of my son." She took a deep breath. "So I did what she asked. For twenty years now. Once a year, I get a photo proving he's still alive. That's it." Tears welled in her eyes. Part of her felt an immense relief to finally tell someone, even as shame burned deep within her. "You were the last target. As soon as I saw your name on the screen, I lost control. I smashed a glass of wine against the wall, and Foss came running. He knew something was wrong. I tried to keep him out of it, but they checked my search history and figured out you were my next target and that we knew each other from school. Eventually, he figured out you're his father. He went to your club to stop me. Burned your house down to make sure I couldn't ambush you there." She let out a sound between a sob and a humorless laugh. "I drugged him and his friend and locked them in our basement."

"Fuck. Do you realize how insane this all sounds?"

"Yes." She stared at her knees. "I'm all too aware."

"You should've come to me sooner. I'd have gotten him out of there by now."

She bit her lip. In hindsight, she could see that might have been an option. But she hadn't known he was part of a biker gang and that he might actually have the means to keep such a promise. "I broke in once. Tried to get him out. I failed. Not long after, I received a finger." The memory made her taste bile. "Following orders was easier after that."

The thought of Hana mutilating his son made his eyes spark with lightning. It wouldn't have surprised her if it started thundering.

"I will kill her."

Despite everything, Naomi felt a flicker of gratitude that she wasn't alone in this anymore. And a flicker of hope. She looked into his dark eyes, which swirled with emotions locked inside, refusing to show them on his otherwise stoic face.

She'd just seduced him, tried to kill him, and told him he had not one but two sons—one of whom had been captive since birth. It was a miracle he could process it all.

Faintly, she remembered she'd injured his arm. She glanced away from his face, searching for the wound. His left arm was slick with blood.

"Shit," she hissed when she saw it. "You've got nerves of steel."

He huffed. It was the only reaction he gave.

After a brief hesitation, she reached for the tear in his shirt, pulling it away from his skin. In the dim light, it was hard to tell how bad the injury was. "I'm sorry. I should've trusted you sooner."

His gaze met hers, free of any judgment. "You did what you thought you had to do," he said, the corner of his mouth curling up. "And your attempt to murder me was kinda cute."

"Cute?"

His grin widened. "Did you really believe, even for a second, that you could take me down?"

"Pfft. I've taken down bigger men than you. Normally, I'm very good at what I do." She felt the urge to press her lips against that grin but managed to resist. The passion that had flared earlier had been part of her plan to kill him. That didn't mean she didn't desire him, but she wasn't some desperate fool. There were more important things to focus on. 

His arm needed tending. They needed a plan to outsmart Hana and rescue their son.

And her other son was still locked in their basement, probably ready to tear the house apart once she let him out.

It was going to be a long, long night.