With the amount of money she brought in from her work with mercenaries, Winter could easily afford an apartment in the heart of Manhattan, but after growing up so long without money, she had a hard time spending it.

On new gadgets and devices for her work? There was no price she wasn’t willing to pay.

An apartment where she would literally only sleep? She couldn’t justify spending well over a million dollars, especially one that was only eight-hundred square feet at best.

Instead, she’d found a quaint little spot just outside the heart of Brooklyn; a decent-sized one that didn’t make her feel guilty for what she had spent on it.

Uncle Steve, who’d been like a father to her after her parents had died in the house fire, hadn’t been a penny pincher by any means, but he had always taught her the value of a dollar.

“Who needs to keep up with the Jones’s, huh?” he’d asked when they walked down to the deli on the corner of 5^th and Winston. “I’d rather have a small house with plenty of shit in it than a mansion with fuck all.”

She had agreed wholeheartedly, even though she hadn’t fully understood what he meant.

Their little apartment above the bar had been her favorite place in the world—so different from the row house where she’d lived with her parents.

But Uncle Steve had always been the coolest, even if he wasn’t the most practical.

She wondered what he would think about her little place if he was here now instead of in the cemetery only a few miles from where she lived.

It had the usual look of most apartments—off-white walls, a refrigerator and stove in need of upgrading, and hardwood floors. It might not have been much to someone else, but it was hers, and she’d paid for it.

Plus, Syn didn’t govern it, and if she had her way, he would never know about it.

She didn’t get to visit as often as she would have liked with how often she was working, but each time she could escape here, she brought one more thing with her to make the place more hers and less like a place to squat.

Uncle Steve’s place had more knickknacks than she ever could count, mostly sports memorabilia, but there had also been the pictures of her mom and dad that she still had tucked away in a box in the back of her closet.

The living room was mostly one big open, empty space—one of the rooms she hadn’t gotten to yet.

But the bedroom? The bedroom was what she was most proud of.

On the walls of her bedroom, she proudly displayed vinyls—some trusty favorites, and others she hadn’t gotten around to listening to yet. In front of the wall stood her white metal rack, her favorite rock tees and trusty black jeans hanging from it, along with several pairs of military boots lined up in front of it.

She was reflected in every aspect of the room, from the records to the black, white, and gray color scheme. Even the pallet bed tucked into one corner of the room near the lone window in the room.

Finally—and this was arguably her favorite spot in the entire apartment—there was her main setup.

Three screens sat side by side on an old oak desk, the router and modem tucked away beneath the wood. Behind one of them was a picture of her and Syn in a black frame just out of view.

This room was her, and Răzvan was standing in the very center of it.

Now that they were here and out of the pouring rain, she actually had a chance to think about him being in her space where no one else had been before.

She usually didn’t care about such trivial things, but now she was curious.

This was her oasis, the place where she could be herself without care of what anyone else thought.

Okay, maybe she wanted him to like it.

He was still a stranger even as she knew more intimate details about him that she hadn’t known some months ago.

Her time in California hadn’t just been spent working for The Kingmaker. She had also gotten the chance to meet Răzvan and his brothers.

It had all started with a text.

No one ever mentioned how death affected others who weren’t as close, but she’d always thought it was just as hard for them as it was for those who were intimate with the one they lost.

She hadn’t known Aidra, the unfortunate victim of a man intent on seeing her friend’s ruin, personally, but she knew what it was like to lose family.

She’d seen the sadness in Calavera, but she knew Nix would comfort her, but in the late hours of the night, she’d wondered whether Răzvan had someone other than his brothers.

Someone else he could talk to who wasn’t reeling as hard.

It was that thought that had her doing a quick little search and a bit of effortless coding to find his number.

It had briefly crossed her mind how it might have looked, considering she hadn’t actually gotten his number from him, but she hadn’t thought about the consequences before she sent off the first of what would ultimately become many texts between them.

I’m so sorry you lost Aidra, she’d said, not wanting to say anything more than that … Until she realized she had never bothered to mention who had sent the message.

But once she did, not even thirty-seconds later, she got a response.

At first, she had meant to be an ear, someone he could use if he needed to talk, but it quickly bloomed from there.

Syn had always said her curiosity would be what got her into trouble, but she hadn’t given that any thought when it came to Răzvan.

Their conversation might have started about Aidra, but soon she’d found herself talking to him about everything and nothing.

WINTER: WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?

RĂZ: WHY?

WINTER: IT’S A VALID QUESTION.

RĂZ: IS IT?

WINTER: WHY’S YOUR MASK BLANK?

RĂZ: IT’S NOT.

It had taken a while to get him out of that gruff shell and to say more than a few words at a time, but once she did, she’d found that he was far more interesting than she’d ever thought.

Smiling even as she pushed those thoughts away, Winter glanced back at Răzvan.

He looked around in a purely analytical way—checking each window—and once they’d entered her apartment, he’d glanced back to make sure the door was locked as well.

“Pass inspection?”

—You could use better locks.—

“I can probably YouTube it.”

He gave her a look. —I can take care of it for you.—

She blew him a kiss. “My hero.”

—What brings you to New York?—

She dragged her fingers through her hair, massaging away the tension in her scalp from the braids. “I’m not sure yet.”

Which was mostly true.

Until she went to the meet tomorrow, she wouldn’t know what exactly she was doing in New York, but that was better than mentioning the truth.

“Plus,” she went on, “I needed the change of scenery.”

Răzvan didn’t respond, merely studied her in that uncanny, unblinking way of his—like he was trying to decipher whether she was lying to him.

But she never outright lied.

Evading was her specialty, and if she absolutely had to, she offered half-truths.

But she had wanted the change, not just after her time in London, but after Phoenix as well. She might have grown up in a rather nice home the latter part of her life, but she didn’t miss that place at all.

Her adoptive parents had done the best they could by her, but the weight of expectation had been a little too much for her.

“How is he?” she asked, changing the subject off her. “Fang, I mean.”

It was obvious from his expression that he knew it was a bid to change the subject, but he allowed it all the same. —Taking some time off.—

That made sense. “I’m surprised he hadn’t already.”

She didn’t know the extent of the relationship Fang had with Aidra, but she did know that Fang had had the worst of it.

If she ever lost Syn … she’d be a basket case.

“And you? How are you coping?”

He shrugged.

Shrugged as though that were answer enough.

But she wouldn’t push him if he wasn’t ready to discuss it. During the past four months, she’d learned he opened up when he was ready and not a moment before.

“You should come by The Hall tomorrow night,” she said as he stood.

—Oh?—

She needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off Syn and the epic fucking mistake she’d made back in London when she’d been too drunk to know better.

And there was no better distraction than the Romanian standing across from her now.

Winter smiled, even as she opened the door for him. “We’re getting acquainted.”