The plan was flawless. Xaden had studied the mansion for weeks—memorized the security rotations, the blind spots in the cameras, even the way the wind rattled the old glass windows at night. Breaking in was the easy part. He moved like a shadow, silent, precise.

The vault was in your study, hidden behind a grand bookshelf. He’d already disabled the alarm, picked the lock, and stepped inside when he heard the soft click of a we4pon behind him.

“Step away from the safe.”

Your voice was calm, steady. No fear, no hesitation. He smirked. Most people would be trembling by now.

“You’re not going to sh00t me,” he said smoothly, turning to face you.

You smirked. “And why’s that?”

His eyes traced over you—dressed in silk, yet standing like a warrior. There was something in your expression that intrigued him, something he wasn’t used to. You weren’t scared. In fact, you almost looked… amused.

“Because you want to know why I’m here,” he murmured, stepping closer. His voice dropped, low and deliberate. “And because you don’t see me as a thre4t. You should, though.”

You arched a brow, tilting your head slightly. “Should I?”

He should have laughed, should have thrown out another cocky remark, but something about you stole the words from his mouth. For the first time in years, he felt off balance. The way your eyes held his, like you were trying to see beyond the man in front of you.

His fingers twitched at his side. He had been in a thousand situations like this—cornered, outnumbered, in d4nger. But this? This was different. The air was thick, charged with something neither of you acknowledged.

He should have grabbed the loot and vanished. Instead, he found himself lowering his guard.

“I came for something valuable,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I think I just found something more d4ngerous.”

Your lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

And that was the moment Xaden realized—he wasn’t stealing anything tonight. He was the one being stolen.