The ride to the North District was silent. Inside the luxury car, the air was heavy with unspoken words. Arya sat in the back, the emerald silk of her dress shifting over her thighs. Beside her, Silas was a dark, brooding presence. He had stripped off the server's harness, leaving his chest bare under his torn shirt. He didn't look at the city lights. He only looked at Arya. His gaze was so intense it felt like it was burning her skin.
They reached the penthouse, a glass fortress high above the neon glow of Silver City. As the elevator doors opened, Silas followed Arya into the living room like a predator stalking the only source of light he had ever seen. He didn't care about the gold leaf or the marble. He only cared about the woman in front of him.
Arya walked to the floor to ceiling window. "This is your home now, Silas. Tomorrow, we start taking back your companies. But tonight... we plan."
She turned to face him, but Silas was already there. He stepped into her space, his sheer size blocking out the room. He smelled like expensive whiskey and the cold metallic tang of the rain.
"Why me?" he rasped. "You spent a fortune on a dead man. Why, Arya?"
Arya set her glass down. She reached out, her fingers sliding up his bare chest until they rested over his heart. "Because the men who ruined you are the same ones who tried to bury me. And I know a man who has lost everything is the most dangerous weapon in the world."
She leaned in, her body brushing against his. "I didn't buy a waiter, Silas. I bought the Blood Merchant. I want you to take back every cent they stole."
Silas's breath hitched. He suddenly dropped to his knees, his large hands wrapping around her waist. He didn't pull her closer; he just held on as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling back into the dark.
"I am yours," he choked out. "Every drop of blood, every thought... it belongs to you. I'll burn this city if you ask."
He looked up at her, and the submissiveness vanished. A dark flame lit his eyes. His hands tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into the silk.
"But you bought a monster, Arya," he growled. "If I'm your weapon, you're my only reason to breathe. Don't think you can ever let another man touch you. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all before I let them breathe the same air as you."
Arya smiled, her fingers tangling in his dark hair. "Is that a threat, Silas? Or a promise?"
"It's a fact," he said, standing up and lifting her off her feet. He carried her toward the bedroom, his eyes never leaving hers. "You saved me from the dark," he whispered against her ear. "Now, I'm never letting you leave it."