Juliette leaned back in her office chair and sighed. For the first time since she’d taken possession of this office, she felt a sense of peace. More than that, she finally felt like she could do this job.

She grinned as she recalled Arthur’s visit to Boston…without his princess. This time, she’d made him come to her. He had been unaware of the Empire’s actions during the war, obviously distressed to learn the lengths to which his Emperor would go to punish someone after the war was won.

He had accepted her at her word when she’d assured him the Hancocks were the last of the purists, and he was grateful to have even more of the remaining artwork returned. She had no idea what would become of Jayce and Priscilla Hancock, but she couldn’t work up too much regret in handing them over to the Admiralty. Given the look of pure fury on Arthur’s face when they were loaded onto the private plane, she didn’t doubt for a moment they’d suffer for their crimes and beg for death by the end.

She sighed.

Arthur hadn’t been pleased when he realized she’d deliberately bound Caden in a trinity after their meeting in London. She’d known that was a risk, and she’d had to pay a steep price. She hadn’t told anyone, even Devon, that in order to keep Arthur and the Masters’ Admiralty from declaring outright war, she’d had to give him a complete list of all members of the Trinity Masters.

What he’d wanted was the list of purists and purist descendants. Arthur said the Masters’ Admiralty wouldn’t retaliate against those people, but she didn’t believe him. That wasn’t quite right. She was sure Arthur believed there wouldn’t be retaliation, but she didn’t trust his wife, or anyone else in the Masters’ Admiralty. She would protect people like Grant, even if it meant turning over the entire membership roster.

Just thinking about it made her feel ill. Arthur has promised that their names wouldn’t be shared outside the Masters’ Admiralty’s leadership, but she had no idea how many people that might be.

Now they knew every member of the Trinity Masters, and she barely knew anything about the Masters’ Admiralty.

But in the end, the Trinity Masters and the Masters’ Admiralty had forged an alliance of sorts. An unsteady one that basically said they would stay out of the Admiralty’s way if the Admiralty stayed out of theirs. For now, that was enough. The guillotine was no longer poised over her head, waiting to fall. And she could breathe easy for the first time in months.

There was a light knock before the door swung open.

“Juliette?”

“I’m here, Franco.”

Her beloved husband stepped into the office. She rose, crossing the room to hug him. It was a silly impulse, considering she’d seen him at breakfast not three hours earlier. They’d traveled to headquarters together, where he had headed to his cramped office, surrounded by stacks of files. She joked he was in serious danger of death by paper avalanche.

Meanwhile, she’d spent most of the morning pretending to work, while reliving last night’s revelry with Franco and Devon. It had started on the kitchen table, then continued with sex against the hallway wall, with a brief, heated, steamy interlude in the shower that ended with an encore in their large California-king bed.

As Franco returned her embrace, he let her hands drift down to squeeze her ass. It was nearly lunchtime.

“Should we call Devon and see if he’s interested in a little afternoon delight?”

It wasn’t until Franco hesitated that she realized he was distracted.

“Franco?”

“Maybe you should sit down, Juliette.”

She narrowed her eyes as she stepped away from him. “I’m happy, Franco. Blissfully so. If you’ve come in here to kill my buzz, I’ll kill you. I have people. It would only take one phone call.”

Franco knew her well enough to know she was joking…more’s the pity. “I was going through one of the older filing cabinets, looking to see if there was any more information to be found on Grace Hughes in our files, when I came upon something that has me concerned.”

He handed her a yellowed sheet of paper so old, she couldn’t believe it wasn’t crumbling in her hand.

Juliette scanned it, her eyes widening. “Shit,” she whispered.

Franco’s face was solemn. “I know.”

He had indeed killed her buzz.

Juliette crossed back to her desk, sinking heavily in her chair. “I’d ask what you recommend, but I already know what you’re going to say. We have another task.”

He nodded.

She sighed heavily. “Fine. Bring me the membership files. It’s time to call the next trinity.”