Theo took Cassandra to a private gallery, its walls lined with her murals, a surprise he’d arranged to celebrate her talent. Her silver dress shimmered, and Theo’s black suit was undone at the collar, his eyes alight with pride. “This is for you,” he said, guiding her through, his hand warm on her lower back.

“You did this?” she asked, tears prickling, her heart swelling. His kiss was tender, then hungry, pulling her into a shadowed alcove. “You’re my muse,” he murmured, his hands sliding under her dress, her legs wrapping around him. Their lovemaking was fervent, her gasps muffled against his shoulder, the gallery’s silence amplifying their passion.

After, Theo revealed more. “The syndicate deals in art theft,” he said, his voice heavy. “I’m feeding info to the authorities, but their leader, Viktor, is ruthless. He knows about you.”

Fear gripped her, but love was stronger. “We’ll fight this,” she said, kissing him fiercely. But as they left, a man watched from the shadows—Viktor, his smile cold. “You’re out of time, Arden,” he called, his eyes on Cassandra.

Theo pulled her close, his body tense. “Run,” he whispered, leading her to his car. But Viktor’s words echoed: “She’s your weakness.” How much did he know, and what was his next move?

Theo drove Cassandra to his cabin in the hills, a sanctuary of wood and glass overlooking Valoria. The air was crisp, the stars bright, and Cassandra’s emerald gown flowed, her nerves frayed but her heart anchored to him. “We’re safe here,” he said, pulling her inside, his touch a lifeline.

“I trust you,” she said, her voice steady, kissing him deeply. Their passion ignited, his hands peeling away her gown, her body arching under his in the candlelit bedroom. Their lovemaking was a slow burn, her nails digging into his back, his whispers of love a balm to her fears, their bodies one with the night.

After, Theo confessed his past. “My sister died in a syndicate deal gone wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been running from that guilt. You make me want to fight, Cassandra.”

Tears fell as she held him, their bond deepening. But a package arrived at dawn—a stolen painting, with a note: Deliver, or she burns. Theo’s face paled. “Viktor’s closing in,” he said, his voice grim.

As they planned to trap Viktor, headlights pierced the woods. “They’re here,” Theo whispered, grabbing a gun from a safe. Who had found them, and could their love survive the storm?

Chapter 3: Fire in the Night

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